A Muggle's Wand
by AvadaKedavra1
Summary: Five years after the death of Voldermort, Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron blaze through their lives trying to distance themselves from their heroic past. Hermione stumbles on a new threat, a Muggle, who calls the nastiest witch of all time, master.
1. Prologue: Bellatrix's New Pet

Prologue:

Bellatrix's New Pet

South London, September 28, 1982.

8 Months after the death of Lily and James Potter and the fall of Lord Voldemort.

He had less than two pounds to his name, and no hope of acquiring any more without another legally questionable and downright creative plan. Standing in the tube station, on the number 4 platform, his stomach made a noise. It was time to get something to eat.

The tube station was a little too crowded for his tastes. The old woman he had been following, the future victim of an improvisation, struck up a casual conversation with the tube station Constable, inadvertently saving her pocketbook from the skills of his fast fingers.

It was time to find another contributor to his sustenance requirements. He turned and walked up the stairs leading to the streets above, hoping there, in this late hour, the streets of London would be isolated. This might allow him an opportunity to pick a target, preferably someone vulnerable. In the event someone saw him, he could all but disappear into a crowd; another spectacular skill he couldn't really explain.

A nice elderly person would do, or an unsuspecting tourist, like an American.

The thought of his native people actually made him smile, though he had spent the majority of his life in Europe, deep down inside he knew he would return home to the United States one day.

He stood at the top of the tube staircase surveying his surroundings. One and two story homes lined both sides of the one-way cobblestone street. There was slight mist in the air, obscuring the visibility of the street lanterns. He could hear what sounded like a couple arguing from one of the nearby homes, and down the street, in the opposite direction, the sounds of a few gents exiting a pub trailed off as they walked further into the darkness. He closed his eyes, trying to listen.

Standing still, on the threshold of the staircase he shoved his hands back into the pockets of his long-coat hugging the fabric around his frame. Just under two-meters in height, perhaps he was twenty-five. His hair was mouse brown and moderately well kept for a man between residences. The features of his face, aside from looking like he had missed a few meals were rather simple, save his dark blue eyes.

After another moment, he turned left and headed against the flow of traffic. Heading in the direction of the pub noise he hoped his wanderings would lead him towards more people. There he could have his pick of any tipsy chap on his crawl home after a few too many pints.

He walked up on muffled voices much sooner than expected as he stopped outside a long alley between two storefront shops. Storefronts? He hadn't realized he'd walked out of the area of apartment homes. The scenery hadn't changed enough for him to notice. This was a little upsetting, he prided himself on seeing everything, and every angle in any situation, yet was too distracted to notice anything. His mind felt muggy and filled with fog. As if everything he looked at, turned into a stare and a loss of focus. He shook his head and took a step towards the storefront building connected to the alley. With his back to the red brick, he looked up and down the street for any other pedestrians. Things now stayed clear in his mind, though he could definitely feel the fog in his mind like a tidal wave held in stasis by pure will alone.

He heard the muffled voices again, this time definitely coming from down the alley. He moved towards the entrance minding several puddles in the cobble to remain stealthy. Too many experiences as a thief ensured he was a master of not being seen if he did not wish it.

He slinked inside the alley, keeping his back to the corridor wall and drifted behind a large rubbish bin about fifteen meters inside the walkway. Peering over the bin from a crouched position he could see two figures at the opposite end. They were both tall, wearing cloaks of black that seemed to stretch all the way to the ground.

He couldn't completely understand what they were saying. They spoke English, but were using words he did not understand.

"Fucking horrid location!" The man on the left whispered with spite. "There're Muggles everywhere, if we fight, we'll be seen!"

_Muggle? _He thought. _Whatthe hell is a Muggle? _He leaned forward closer to the bin in an attempt to hear more.

"Relax Krizzen." The black-cloaked man on the right replied. "The Auror's are obligated to protect the Muggle's, so any battle here gives us the advantage. They hunt Death Eaters, which is why we need to be here, away from the Magical community. Away from stray eyes."

_Magical community? Whatever! These guys are nuts! _The man thought to himself, however, when a third man in black robes appeared from nowhere, he realized these men were not crazy. The man appeared with a popping sound. His bright, long-blonde hair made for stark contrast against his midnight robes.

"Lucius!" One of the men screamed with a whisper. "You're late!"

"Plans have changed, the Auror's have Narcissa!" He explained with an arrogant tone in his voice. "Bellatrix is going to join you in my stead; I'm going to get my wife. She will explain what needs to be done."

He wondered if his luck could possibly get any worse. There was no possible way of getting out of this alley. The man called Lucius was facing his direction and would surely see if he stood up.

"Bellatrix's tracking the Longbottom's, right now, and as soon as she finds out anything, she'll join you. Wait here, take your orders from her."

Almost instinctively the two men bowed to the blonde man, and with a raise of his hand he vanished with a _crack_. He appeared to be holding a foot long wooden stick in the hand he raised. _Surely not! _

A few minutes passed as he listened to the two remaining men talk. Their tone was now much less angry towards each other. Whatever they were about to do, they were excited about it. His curiosity was peaked as they appeared to each brandish a "magic wand."

Out of nowhere, he heard footsteps behind him. He froze in his spot and slowly turned his head around to see who was coming.

His eyes focused on a figure walking down the center of the alley. The figure moved slow, and held a light in his left hand. He could tell from the silhouette cast that this man was a constable.

Just as the beam of the constable's light was about to fix in on him behind the rubbish bin, it snapped away in the direction of the cloaked men at the other end of the alley. The constable walked right past him, focusing on the two men.

"Who goes there?" The constable yelled, in a very authoritative tone.

He could hear the ruffle of fabric, and chose not to wait any longer to look back over the bin. The two men drew their wands which they had fixed in on the intruder.

"Oi mate!" He said, obviously trying to sound charming. "We's just passing through, trying to figure our way back to the tube."

"Tube's this way, I'll show you." The constable said, pointing the back up the alley in which he'd entered. "Follow me."

As the constable turned his back, the man with the wand walked right under the only light in the alley, which slightly illuminated his face. From behind the bin, he could see clearly, every detail as the man raised the wand, aimed it and yelled, "_REDUCTO_!"

There was a flash of red light which came out of the end of his wand. It traveled as fast a bullet hitting the man squared in the back sending him flying through the alley past the rubbish bin. He couldn't believe what just happened. This really was magic! He just did a spell called 'Reducto' and it sent the constable sailing through the air.

_Holy Shit! _

The spell did not kill the constable; he was dazed but slowly getting to his feet. He was noticeably reaching for his weapon and rising to his feet when a new voice broke the deadened silence of the alley.

"_AVADA KEDARVA!_" A female voice screamed. A flash of green light engulfed the constable, and sent him soaring back in the direction from which the 'Reducto' spell sent him just moments before. At the very last second he realized, that the constable was coming right towards where he hid.

The collision was what he expected. The man landed square on top of him and pinned him against both the brick wall and the bin. The adrenaline coursing through his veins cleared his head and his ringing ears within seconds.

_This must be the Bellatrix woman they're expecting._

Pinned underneath the corpse of the murdered constable he laughed silently to keep from having a heart attack. His mind tired to process what happened. _Abracadabra? That couldn't be what she just said?_

"My lady Bellatrix," one of the original two men said with noticeable panic in his voice.

Peering from behind the constable's corpse, a very slender woman stood where the constable was just moments ago. She wore a black gown silhouetted by the streetlights behind here out of the alley. Her jet black hair, and had a frizz to it that looked quite chaotic and quite intentional. Two more figures dressed in black appeared behind her who Bellatrix was expecting based on her lack of reaction.

"Idiots!" She yelled! "Fucking Idiots! We have work to do, and I find you here playing with Muggles!"

"Forgive us my lady," one man said with a bow. "He arrived just before you, I assure you we were not playing with him."

Bellatrix lowered her wand, but the look on her face did not diminish. "You are lucky Krizzen, we have work to do."

"The five of us have a date with the Longbottom's, and it'll take all our efforts." Bellatrix turned to the two men who had appeared shortly after her arrival. "Barty, Rodolphus head to the rally point." She said and they both vanished with a _crack. _ "Toya, check the constable, make sure he is dead, we leave immediately."

The man pinned under the constable knew he was about to be discovered. Reaching inside his coat, he pulled out a very small pistol. Footsteps approached to where he laid pinned under the corpse. His eyes were closed and prayed he would not be discovered.

"Bloody hell?" Toya exclaimed. "_LUMOS!_"

He could see a bright light through his eyelids, and knew at once he was a secret no longer.

"There's someone else here, a street rat Muggle!" Toya yelled pulling corpse off of him, "Filthy Muggle!"

He opened his eyes, as if just waking from a long nap and raised his free hand to shield his eyes from a light coming from the end of Toya's wand. "Oi," he yelled acting as drunk as possible. "This is my spot, go find your own place to sleep." He added a significant slur, both to hide his accent and sell his lie.

The light of Toya's wand changed from white to pink without a word, and the pink light grabbed him around the throat hurling him off the ground and slamming him into the brick wall a foot off the ground. The wand held inches from his throat, and he knew he would need to act soon before he ran out of air.

"Tukston," Bellatrix yelled, apparently speaking Toya's last name. "Finish him, I don't care who—"

The sound of the gun firing seemed to startle everyone, except Bellatrix as a large pink mist erupted from the back of Toya Tukston's head. The wand light extinguished and they hit the ground. As Toya's lifeless body came to rest next to him he gasped desperately for air. He made a series of choking noises in an act to disguised his prize, the magic wand he snatched on the way down.

No one made a sound until Bellatrix. Her stunned look quickly turned to amusement as let out a quick cackle of laughter followed by a deeper belly laugh of hysteria.

"_EXPELLIARMUS!_" Bellatrix yelled, and the pistol flipped out of his hands.

He really didn't want to expose that he'd taken Toya's wand, but since the pistol was ten meters from him he needed a new plan. Rolling over quickly he pointed the wand at Bellatrix's face!

She laughed even louder. "And what do you expect to do with that Muggle?" She stepped forward, and for the first time he could really see her. Perhaps thirty years old, she was without a doubt both gorgeous scary as hell. She definitely had a look of pure insanity as she stood there, arms outstretched, cackling.

"I don't want any trouble, love." He gasped trying to act suave, and failing. "I was too busy hiding to hear anything, just let me go!"

"Christ, Toya's got a god-damn hole in his head the size of me fist!" Krizzen yelled, in a panicked Scottish accent unrecognizable until now. "Fucking blood everywhere!"

"Toya's an idiot." Bellatrix snorted. "A tad fitting he got killed by a Muggle."

_Ah-hah! Muggle, a non-magical person! _

"Just let me go," he said standing to his feet, Toya's wand pointed still at her face.

Bellatrix looked back at him, as her straight face morphed into a smile. "Oh, you killed a Death Eater pretty Muggle! You have much to answer for."

"Please, I don't want to hurt you!"

"Hurt me?" Bellatrix snorted again, with an air of astonishment. "Oh, pretty, pretty boy, in what universe do you think you could ever hurt me?"

He raised the wand a tad higher.

"The curse is AVADA KEDARVA." She said, as Krizzen made a gasp behind him. "It's the killing curse, and the one I used on that git over there."

"Aye, the green one."

"It is impossible to defend, impossible to block, and aside from a one year old boy who will not live to see two, impossible to survive. Go for it. Call forth the curse and channel all of your rage through the end of your wand!"

"Sounds lovely," he replied. _What was that spell, that first one? Think!_

"NOW DO IT!" She screamed, her tone moving rapidly from giddy to plain nasty. "You get the first shot, and I assure you I am gonna kill you when you fail. Might as well go out fighting."

"Piss off." He retorted, in a desperate attempt to stall. He couldn't remember the spell Krizzen used to send the constable flying.

"_CRUCIO_!" She yelled, and the flash of red light from her wand brought with it a new definition to the word pain. His eyes seared closed and when he opened them Bellatrix was standing directly in front of him deriving a sort of sick sexual pleasure from his pain.

He didn't make a sound, as he had no energy to speak. The pain was nothing like he remembered, nothing like breaking bones or burns. Definitely not like a broken heart, but yet, at the same time a combination of the three multiplied by a million.

She released him. "I am impressed pretty American Muggle. You took that well, most scream for any creator they can imagine when I do that, pretty Muggle man." Still holding her wand at him, she dropped her arms again to expose her chest, now heaving in her black corset. "I am at your mercy Muggle pretty, kill me or I'll do it again!"

_What was that damned spell? Reducto? _He recanted what she had said about the killing curse, about hate, and did everything she said inside himself to stir up his emotions. When it felt like he was going to erupt, he closed his eyes to channel it. As he opened them, he saw Bellatrix stepping towards him again. With an exhale; he released the river of rage inside him.

"_Reducto_!" He yelled with all his might, as a red disturbance launched from the end of his wand.

The spell caught her square in the face and sent her flying backwards, flipping her feet over her head. Unlike the constable, she did not hit the ground. Bellatrix landed gracefully, after vanishing and reappearing immediately. In doing so, she righted herself.

"Pretty Muggle, dead Muggle trying to be a wizard, ha!." She echoed with a laugh. "Krizzen, get the the rally point. I'll be there in ten minutes, go!" Bellatrix commanded down the alley.

"Yes, my lady." Krizzen's voice trailed off as he vanished.

He snapped his mind back into focus, forcing his legs to answer his brain's screams to run. Just as he began to move she moved in on him with elegant grace and speed.

Startled, he blinked her into focus. Just as he pursed his lips to cast 'Reducto' on her again, the tip of her wand touched his throat. What felt like a hundred thousands volts of electric current ripped through his flesh sending him back against the brick. Bellatrix never let her want separate itself from his skin. Again he made no sound, which actually wasn't too impressive. Whatever she was doing to him now, was one-tenth of the 'Crucio' spell she had done before.

She released the spell, but did not remove the wand-tip from his neck. He could see her now, as the tears washed from his eyes, coming into focus. Her skin was extremely pale, and he was impressed with her beauty. She was still breathing heavy, her black hair and black dress in direct contrast to her milky white skin. Interrupted by two trickles of bright red blood dripping from her nose.

She noticed him staring at her mouth, and smiled. Her pink tongue sneaked out past her dark lips to taste the blood on them. She looked down, tasted her blood, looked back up at him and smiled a bloody toothed smile.

"Good pet," she whispered with a rasp in her voice and patted his head in a deliberate and exaggerated motion. The look in her eyes was perhaps the most disturbed look he had ever seen on the face of any living person.

He moved his hand to turn his wand towards her, but her reaction was instantaneous. Electric current flooded him again and again he was in the place in his mind where he went when she did either of those two spells. Extremely aware of the pain, but at the same time disconnected from it. A prisoner inside his head, until such time as she released him.

When he came to this time, his wand hand was pinned to the brick wall by her free hand holding his wrist. She had not disarmed him.

"Bad pet doggie Muggle, so pretty-pretty," she said again in a scratch. "Doggie needs punishing, eh?"

He looked at her, but did not speak.

"Pretty boy are you afraid of Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"I think I have a very good right to be." He couldn't believe he spoke, and the look on her face showed them sharing this moment of bewilderment.

"Pretty doggie dares to speak to Bellatrix," she said rhetorically. "Pretty Muggle has the nerve to address me? I was the Dark Lord's favorite; I will help him rise again. Such a ghastly time this is, pet, when Muggle doggies think they are permitted to speak to me. A noble and honorable Death Eater from the pure-blood Black family, pretty doggie." Her grip on his wrist seared with pain as she gouged her black fingernails into his skin. She blinked hard, realizing that she had lost her train of thought as she snarled her bloodstained teeth at him.

"The curse is pronounced Avada Kedavra," she yelled, leaning into him and slowly emphasizing the syllables of the curse. She pressed her wand deep into the side of his neck, moving it slightly from his voice box to allow him to speak.

"Avada Kedavra?" he said with a slight amount of caution, but nothing happened, as his wand remained dormant.

"Muggle doggie has good pronunciation," she cackled with a laugh and shocked him again.

The alley and Bellatrix came into focus again, "How can you do that without speaking?" he belched at her quickly.

As if expecting him to speak, she gathered a mouth full of blood and spit in his face from just a few inches away. "Pretty Muggle doggie thinks that he is entitled audience with the Dark Lady Bellatrix simply because he can withstand pain! Filthy disgusting Muggle animal!"

"Forgive me, my lady." he said, improvising to show her some respect, though he clearly had none for her.

"Pretty Muggle wants to shag me? Is that why you dare speak? For a tumble?" Bellatrix's eyes sweeled, looking deep into his soul. "Oh," she gasped. "Muggle lover is curious. Mudblood Muggle, doesn't understand that some spells are verbal and others are not. The stronger the witch, the stronger is her ability to learn to cast spells silently, _CRUCIO_!" She didn't even pause to speak the 'Crucio' as if it belonged in her last sentence. Crucio, the worse of the two spells, seemed to come as a reward, whereas the lesser was punishment. For some reason, this didn't seem odd to him.

He picked his head up when she released him from 'Crucio.' Snot was dripping from his nose, or perhaps it was blood, he couldn't be sure.

"The curse!" she screamed, still stabbing his neck with her wand.

"Avada Kedavra." the man bellowed, and although his wand shuddered in his hand, noting happened.

He opened his eyes, and saw sky this time. She was holding his head up by his hair, with her hand curled in with his brown locks, now soaked with sweat. She used his hair to knock his skull off the bricks a few times then pushed his face to the right with her wand hand so that he could see his. It was still pinned against the brick with her other hand.

He looked at his wand. Having an epiphany as to what she was trying to do, excitement filled him.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA!_" The pulse of green light seemed to leap out of the wand before he had even finished saying the spell.

Bellatrix gasped, and released both his wrist and his neck. He slumped all the way to the cobblestones beneath his feet as his legs completely gave out. She backed away muttering to herself, as he attempted to get back to his feet.

"Muggle, mud doggie can do the killing curse, ha ha! Muggle pretty is a good doggie, he can do the killing curse, ha ha." She continued to cackle until she realized he was on his feet, wiping the sweat off his brow with his wand hand.

She ran over to him, he face beaming. Her dark gray lipstick smeared across her face and mixed with blood. She grabbed him by both shoulders, hoping and jumping like a giddy child.

"Bellatrix has a secret weapon! Bellatrix has a secret weapon! A pretty slave Muggle pretty doggie, pretty, pretty. One that no Ministry of Magic," she turned her head and spat, "can ever detect! Pretty, pretty slave doggie of Bellatrix."

He just looked at her, half smiling, half shaking his head as if someone had just given him an open can of motor oil for Christmas. He didn't know what to do or say. Without warning she leaned in and licked him, from chin to brow then returning again to arms length and cackling.

Bellatrix released him and seemed to regain her composure, reaching into a fold of her corset to remove a watch on a chain. She looked at the time, and shouted "Shit!" Stuffing the watch back where it came from, she ran her wand hand through her black hair, looking up and down the alley trying to think.

Finally she seemed to have a plan, and turned towards him with a snap of her finger. Her face lit up in excitement as she stepped towards him raising her wand.

"_IMPERIO_!" she said, and with a flash of white light, all the cares in the world seemed to drop from his mind. His arms dropped to his side, and he assumed the most vacant of expressions.

"Quickly now, doggie. Oh, I can't call you doggie, what would the house elves think?" she said with a laugh, smacking her forehead with her wand. "Your name is now Serahn, and I, doggie Serahn, am your mistress. In other words, your master. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mistress," he said on cue, causing her to smile.

"Do you live near here?"

"No, mistress."

"Where is your home?" she asked, speaking quickly, looking up and down the alley.

"I have none, mistress."

"Okay, there is a Muggle Inn down this street, do you know it?" she said pointing her wand hand down the right side of the alley.

"Yes, mistress. It is called the Shropshire."

"Yes, that's the one. You go there, check in, and await my return. I want you cleaned, groomed and dressed in all black to honor my pureblood family's name. Do you understand?"

"No, mistress," he said without expression.

"What?" she screamed, stepping back and raising her wand. "No, you will not honor my family, or no you do not understand?"

"No, I am unable mistress. I haven't any money," Serahn said without expression.

"Ah, now that is an issue, doggie Serahn." Bellatrix paused and moved her wand hand to her mouth in contemplation. "Doggie needs Muggle money. Where am I gonna get mudblood money?" She whispered to herself repeatedly several times, before stopping mid step and smiling. "Doggie Serahn, do you remember the name of the curse I just put on you?"

"Yes, mistress. You called –"

"Wait!" she screamed, stepping forward to grab the wrist of his wand hand. She moved his wand hand away from her. She laughed aloud at herself rolling her eyes, not completely sure what would happen if two people put the same on each other. Obviously she did not want to find out. "Go ahead, say it."

"_IMPERIO!_" Serahn said, as a white flash of light shot from the end of his wand.

"Impossible!" Bellatrix laughed with a snort. "You, my pretty-pretty, are a fast learner. Lady Bellatrix might just owe you a good tumble for being such a good doggie."

"Yes, mistress." Serahn replied in cue with emotionless words.

"Now, to end the spell, you say Repracto. Say it."

"_REPRACTO_!" Serahn said in a dry tone, as a sound of air being quickly sucked through a straw emanated from his wand. There was no light.

"Good, good! "she screamed with a giggle, releasing his hand and jumping up and down with excitement. "That's a good boy! Now, you are to use this curse to get yourself the things you need. Food, Muggle transportation and whatever else you filthy animals need. But heed this warning, doggie of mine," she grabbed his face and turned it back from his wand to face hers. The fire in her eyes, so intense even through the Imperius Curse, Serahn could feel it. "No one, and I fucking mean NO ONE, is to ever see this wand. They are not to see you use it, possess it, or have any knowledge of how to use it. If you are caught with it, you and I never met. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mistress." Serahn exhaled as Bellatrix released her grip on his face. She reached again inside her corset fold to remove her watch and look at it. She let out an exhale through her bloodied nose.

"Do you understand what I ordered you to do?" Bellatrix asked again.

"Yes, mistress."

"Damnit pretty slave boy, repeat back everything I have told you."

"You are Bellatrix Lestrange of a noble, pure-blood family. Reducto, explodes," as he said that, the spell jumped from his wand tip, prompting Bellatrix to reaffirm her grip on his wrist. "Expelliarmus disarms." A red spell was launched down the alley. "Lumos casts light. Some spells can be cast non-verbally, depending on the strength of the witch." Bellatrix began to smile, realizing his level of absorption. "Avada Kedavra is the killing curse. Imperio controls people. Repracto ends the Imperio. I am to go to the Shropshire Hotel, check in, bathe, groom and await your arrival in black to honor your family. I am to use Imperio to acquire food, lodging and transportation from other Muggles. And, under no circumstances is anyone to ever see me possess or use a wand."

Bellatrix stood there smiling, stunned, as if contemplating all the mischief she would cause through him. "Perhaps, with the Dark Lord away, it wouldn't be a total loss if I have you to do my bidding."

"Yes, mistress."

"Enough!" she yelled, shoving his head back into the bricks. "Knock that vacant doggie look off your face." She smacked him hard across the cheek. "I command you to snap out this and grow a damn personality."

Serahn blinked and smiled, bowing his head in an exaggerated sign of respect. "Whatever you command, my lady Bellatrix."

"Well, that's a start," she screamed with a belly cackle. "I will fix you more later. Now go, do what you need to do. I will come for you in a few days, once the smoke clears."

"Yes, mistress." Serahn gapped with a smile of sarcasm, bowed his head and turned to walk away.

"Wait, pet." She yelled, and walked towards him. He turned around to face her, finding her wand pressed into his shirt right over the heart.

In a very low serious voice just above a whisper she spoke to Serahn slowly. "Are you such a dumb Muggle that I need to explain just exactly how bad things will be for you should you betray me?"

Serahn smiled, and took a deep breath. With a smile, "No mistress Bellatrix, I'll not betray you."

Bellatrix laughed again, "Now go, doggie Serahn, I'll return soon for your tumble."

As he walked away, he heard her disappear. Turning at the end of the alley in the direction of the hotel, he glanced back up where she was once standing. The alley was empty.

Six days later, still in the one hundred twenty pound a night suite of the Shropshire, Bellatrix was nowhere to be found. Sitting on the couch in the main room of the gathering room of his suite, he watched television. Dressed all in black slacks and a pressed black button down shirt he waited. On October 4th, 1983, at approximately seventeen minutes past ten in the morning, the Imperius Curse Bellatrix placed on him lifted. He felt its control wash away from him like a heavy winter coat falling to the floor. Serahn's head dropped with a sigh.

_Bellatrix Lestrange was either dead, or had released him._

He thought the latter was unlikely.


	2. Chapter 1: Undisputed

Chapter 1 – Undisputed

Night. Standing on the rooftop of a building in South London, a wizard waited. The cool summer nights air making soft ruffles in his robe. He stood quietly, listening and watching everything. His toes dipped slightly over the edge of the red brick flirting with the ground below while his stance was strong, and balanced.

In his right hand, wearing fingerless black leather casting gloves, he rolled his wand in a circle around his fingers. Two stories below him, three streets came into one intersection. At this hour, there was no traffic, and the prey he hunted should be arriving at any moment.

He looked left and right with his eyes, never moving his head. He barely breathed, remaining as stealthy as possible. The breeze picked up, ruffling the ragged spikes of his dull red hair cluing him in to the movement his peripheral vision detected.

Down the third street he looked, but saw nothing. Still he stared, crouching his knees down lower to focus his already honed concentration. At last he saw it, a movement in the shadows under an awning. Just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished again.

Ronald Weasley stood up from his perch moving gracefully to his right to get a better angle on the man in the shadows. His steps on the thin brick ledge were absent of sound and he moved confidently on the narrow lip without the slightest hesitation or fear of falling. As Ron halted, the man under the awning moved softly into the light, slinking down the sidewalk with a purpose. Ron waited. He let his gaze drift into a stare overlaying the chess board in his minds eye with the cityscape below. The game was on.

He knew his partner was close, but Ron always preferred the elevation and vantage the rooftops provided. The elevation allowed for extreme tactical analysis and observation. The wizard they tracked, an enemy of the state, neither Ron nor his partner cared what he was charged with. Their charge was to arrest him.

This fugitive moved with a slow, cautious pace, stopping frequently to check his surroundings and listen to the nights sky. Why the man wasn't apparating, Ron didn't know. Finally convinced the coast was clear, he stepped from the shadows onto the footpath. The wizard paused briefly at the three sided intersection before crossing, the moment his feet touched the cobble-stone street, Ron's partner Harry Potter engaged. _CHECK!_

A flash of purple light erupted from the nearest alleyway as Harry shot a spell that bounced flickers of lights off all the different buildings windows. Harry's target quickly erected a strong protection spell halting Harry's bolt before consuming it. The wizard released a few stunning spells shot randomly down the alley and the resulting flashes let Ron know Harry had little trouble blocking them.

Harry stepped clear of the alley a moment later, casting spells and curses as fast as the eye could see. Flashes of blue, purple, yellow and red flew at the fugitive's head with strength, speed and intense accuracy. The wizard blocked some of them and allowed several more to push him back before opting to turn and run full speed away from Harry. Their plan was working perfectly, and their prey was unknowingly tightening the noose around his own neck.

Ron could tell it was time to slam the door on their fugitive's late night stroll. He moved silently to the far side of the building and dropped off its edge. A quick tap of his wand on the way down slowed his descent allowing his feet to land gently on the street below. Crouched again at the knees, he listened; moving the chess pieces in his mind. He was hunting.

Hearing two sets of rapid footsteps he tracked them in his minds eye. The closer of the two was undoubtedly the wizard they were chasing. His feet struck hard and erratically. The second set, obviously Harry's moved much quieter with the grace and dexterity of a cat. Ron stood and silently inched to the end of building turning into an alley. Harry was a fantastic Auror, he knew just where to force their prey to optimize the advantage. Almost with a strut of arrogance, Ron moved to the center of the corridor's entrance, waiting. Any moment Harry would engage the wizard again, and Ron would spring the trap. The arrival of checkmate in this game would be both equally surprising and equally painful for this man.

Thundering footsteps of panic appeared at the opposite end from where Ron stood as the wizard raced desperately for cover. Unaware of his surroundings the man's back was facing Ron while he cast spell after spell only in Harry's direction. Ron waited out of courtesy, twirling his wand like a gambler flaunting a poker chip to allow his best mate the opportunity to secure their fugitive alone. The wizard moved closer and closer to Ron but still hadn't turned or noticed Ron standing behind him. _Knight to Queen-three, rook to bishop, Queen to..."oh, this is almost too easy."_

Ron's brain sensed alarm, recalling an old movie and a line about the floor falling out from beneath your feet. As Harry entered the alleyway, Ron's heart leapt into his throat as two red stunning spells caught Harry square in the back. Contrary to their intelligence reports there was more than one dark wizard on the move tonight. Although distraught about possibly missing a tactic, and walking into someone trap, Ron's reaction was nevertheless, instantaneous.

"_PETRIFICUS TOTALUS_!" Ron commanded cursing their original fugitive in the back as he watched his best mate be flipped over forward into a parked auto. This game had gone from mundane to interesting in the blink of an eye, and Ron was far from option-less. Ron sprinted towards Harry; disarming the petrified wizard and caught his wand in mid-air before he toppled over with a painful sounding thud. Ron covered the twenty meters of the alley in seconds running up as Harry struggled to get to his feet and failed. Surely Harry was out of this fight, whether Potter's brain had succumbed to this fact or not, Ron didn't know or care.

They made quick eye contact with each other which silently told Ron his mate was okay. Ron pointed the two wands around the alley corner into the street and surveyed the field. A witch and a wizard looked back at him awestruck, not expecting a second Auror's arrival. Ron had been wanting to try out a new theory pertaining dual wand wielding, but before today had not found a proper environment for a comprehensive field test.

Ever since Ron entered the Auror Academy he was praised for his aggressiveness and tactical proficiency in battle. This would be an excellent opportunity to test his new, two wand combat stance. He took a quick look out into the street to identify potential places or cover, and then ducked back into the alley for one last run through the checklist in his mind. Holding the new wand in his non-dominant left hand, he strengthened his grip as this wand would be used solely for blocking and defense. His right hand, the more nimble and dexterous limb would be only offensive. The trick to success in this stance, which Ron was fully aware, would be whether or not he could use both wands independently of each other. Not just in an alternating fashion. Ron knew this would take extreme concentration.

Silently, Ron murmured a spell that would mark a place in his memory, which would allow him easier access to this battle in the future for a detailed pensive analysis. The time to engage was now. The cursing of his best friend in the back brought out a new fire inside the redhead, and with the two wands he let loose a fury of spells that sent his enemies scrambling with cover.

Almost arrogantly, Ron glided with graceful steps into the middle of the street, slowly and steadily advancing on them. Each arm swooshed and flicked wildly sending bright shots of blue, red and yellow at both attackers simultaneously. The left wand blocked anything close, and the right sent spell after spell towards its targets with lethal accuracy.

"_AVADA KEDAVRA_!" the witch screamed just as one of Ron's stunning spells caught her in the leg. The slight adjustment of her gate while casting the killing curse modified her aim just enough that Ron didn't even flinch as the green spell of death zoomed by him. There was no sense trying to block a killing curse, as the best practice to stay as far away from one as possible. Ron recognized immediately that her spell was off target.

As the witch stumbled for cover, Ron locked wands with other wizard doing his best to keep their two spells focused on each other. His brain began to scream for an audible to the original plan as chess and battle exist on the concrete foundation that everything changes. Ron immediately raised his defensive left hand overhead towards the sky, holding the stone wizards wand and with a flick shot a crooked white bolt of lightning. The clouds above swirled around the spell turning bright red before unleashing dozens of bolts of real lightning back down to the earth impacting randomly on both sides of the street. Each strike missed Ron's targets as that spell was rarely accurate. The wizard released his spell and dove for cover, and the overall effect of scaring an opponent to death worked perfectly in this case. "_The last enemy to be defeated may be death, but death's second cousin, one removed is undoubtedly fear. If you don't dispatch fear quickly in battle, a date with death is surely inevitable." was one of Ron's favorite teaching points. _

After a few moments of silence, the witch appeared first from a doorway where she hid, casting curse after curse at Ron while advancing and attempting to gain ground on him. To conserve energy, and maintain focus, Ron blocked only the spells he felt might hit him, letting the rest sail past. Once she was in range of him, a red spell leaped from her wand and Ron's only option was to lock her wand in a defensive struggle with his quick orange counter curse from his left wand. _This could be problematic._

She channeled her rage and pushed her magic against him as the two wands fought for every inch of real estate. She even screamed trying to draw in as much power as she could. With every push Ron simply moved his wand thwarting her pulses, and it became quite obvious to Ron exactly who was outclassed in this fight. Ron forced the arrogant thoughts from his mind. As he repeatedly told his students, _"There is never a place for arrogance on today's modern battlefield. Except of course on the losing side."_

Still locked in with the witch, Ron's peripheral vision picked up the wizard limping his way back into the street. Perhaps one of Ron's lightning bolts had caught him, stranger things had happened before. The wizard shot a spell that missed Ron by over a meter striking a parked auto and shattering all its glass. A large shard of windshield flew under Ron's right arm slicking through his robes and skin. Although he registered the contact, he felt no pain, nor did his concentration falter concerning his defensive battle with the witch.

The wizard stumbled forward towards him, launching spells Ron swatted away with his right wand. In his mind he cursed himself. This situation, where his wand assignments were reversed was the first and biggest obstacle plaguing dual wand theory. His weaker, non dominant hand, although defensive in nature, was now technically in an offensive role, which left his dominant, more accurate and faster right wand wasted on defense. Unless he opted to have no defense, a notion beyond ridiculous. Ron knew he needed to remedy this reversal quickly, and get each wand hand back into their assigned roles. The witch continued to push forward in vane moving her wand left and right in attempts to free herself from Ron's grasp. She swore at him repeatedly and although Ron was in complete control of her, strong theory and experience instructed he needed to release this advantage to return to his proper stance. Wasting no time with senseless internal debate, Ron raised his left hand high in the air and snapped his wand hard towards the ground. A blue orb ignited on his wand tip and when he snapped it the whip curse shot through his orange bolt detonating in the witch's chest. Regardless of her skill, she was powerless to stop it, or even slow it down. Both wands were now free, whether or not Ron was a fool or a genius for relinquishing the advantage would be answered in a matter of seconds.

The resulting explosion was unexpected and sent her soaring backwards with a high pitched scream of pain. She hit the pavement with a crack of flesh and did not move. Ron was stunned this had worked, usually whip curses were blatantly obvious moves of desperation and in turn, easily blocked. _Perhaps surrendering such dominant control, increases the whip curse's success rate. This needs more research._

Ron turned to the remaining wizard and with a cavalier flick of his left hand he sent the witch's wand flying from her unconscious fingers into the gutter. He was really starting to understand this new stance.

Ron moved to the center of the street in a scene reminiscent of an old American western movie. His face broadcast confidence and skill as he alternated twirling each wand in his fingers.

The wizard swore at him several times making the smile on Ron's face grow even bigger. Ron stood as still as a statue, staring not at the wizard, but at an indiscriminate patch of cobblestone a few meters in front of his feet. Watching with his peripheral vision and waiting patiently for his enemy to attack, the Auror's lack of action made the situation extremely uncomfortable for the wizard. He held each wand firmly waiting to command them to life, yet refusing to press the advantage. Ron was brewing the wizard an exquisite recipe for a catastrophic mistake. Ron adjusted his feet, placing the left defensive wand to the front, and hiding the offensive right wand behind his core.

Finally, standing just over ten meters away the wizard engaged casting two quick stunning spells at Ron's chest. Like a master swordsman he swatted them away with an elegant parry of the left wand. Another spell raced in towards the Auror and was blocked by both wands crossed like an 'X' in front of Ron's face.

Ron reached out with the right wand magically grabbing hold on the trashed vehicle to his right. Levitating it quickly he pulled it up, shielding himself from a swiftly cast killing curse before hurling the wreckage at the wizard.

The auto rolled three times in the street, missing the wizard who dove to get clear. As he got to his feet he was forced to keep his head down protecting from the steady barrage of jinx's and curses Ron sent his way.

In a final effort of bravery the wizard bolted from behind his cover throwing three quick stunning spells, one of which actually caught Ron in the hip. It did not move him only singeing his robes slightly. Ron crossed his arms over his head tapping the two wands together twice and snapping them outward. With a crack and yellow sparks a long strand of fire-chain grew out of each end creating two separate whips of fire and steel. Defense was no longer a priority, as Ron knew this fight needed to end immediately.

Ron flicked his own wand first sending its chain, still anchored in his wand, curling around the man's legs and tripping him. The wizard fired a last ditched spell as he tumbled and with no free hands Ron was forced to take it in the leg. His balance shuddered briefly but his determination did not. His left hand snapped forward sending the chain around the wizard's neck in a tight curl. Ron yanked back both arms setting the knots tight and after a few seconds futile resistance, the wizard's body went limp. It was over; Ron exhaled a victorious breath. _Checkmate!_

Ron spent the next few minutes moving the wizard and witch into close proximity and of course confiscated their wands. He blasted them both with binding charms securing their hands and feet, before moving to the alley to check on Harry.

He found his best mate leaning up next to the vehicle with a nice Potter shaped dent in it. Ron smiled when Harry looked up at him.

"I think I broke my liver," Harry said sarcastically, with one hand on his stomach and a sour look on his face. Ron laughed and helped him up following a quick diagnostic charm to ensure his best friend was not seriously wounded. Together, they dragged the petrified wizard to the street to join his accomplices.

Harry doubled over once they dropped the third criminal next to the other two. The wizard was still under Ron's curse, unable to move anything but his eyes. Harry spit a mouthful of blood onto the sidewalk and laughed.

"If anyone asks mate," Harry joked "tell 'em I was out getting us coffee or something. And next time you get to be the rabbit."

"I rather like being the rabbit," he replied with a smile.

The witch stirred as she slowly regained consciousness causing Ron to straighten to look more official. Harry remained doubled over, laughing, with his hands on his knees.

"Right then, Nonnahs Mitchell, by order of the Ministry of Magic you are under arrest for allegations of dark wizardry against Muggle's and wizards alike, including but not limited to the Cruciatus Curse, fraud, and attempted cursing of a Government Official." Ron turned to Harry looking for approval of his 'grown up' tone.

"Very nice," he responded.

"And you two, I assume you are Vampessa and Loveat Raistalin, having used the killing curse each, against two law enforcement officers."

"Meaning us," Harry interrupted.

"Yeah, us, you are both under arrest for the capital crime of Attempted Murder by way of the Killing Curse. A grand-felony punishable by quite a long vacation in Azkaban." Ron smiled as Harry took a seat against the side of a building adjoining the sidewalk.

Ron flicked his wand, calling his Patronus to life. The white terrier leaped around Ron before responding to another tap of his master's wand running off out of sight.

Harry and Ron stood guard over their prisoners on the quite London Street until three Auror's Apparated to their location to take the prisoner in to the ministry. Ron gave a detailed report to the duty officer before seeing them off.

Harry was first to walk through the door of Ginny and Hermione's flat followed immediately by Ron. Ginny smiled seeing her boyfriend and brother standing up to greet them both. She moved in and gave Harry a kiss, who winced when she tried to hug him.

"Rough day?" she laughed at him.

Ron moved over to the sink grabbing fresh bandages from the cabinet for his arm. Harry held Ginny for a few seconds allowing her to look over his wounds. She took off his shirt, examining bruises on his chest and back before ordering them both to change out of their clothes and get cleaned up.

Harry moved into Ginny's room changing into clean blue jeans and a t-shirt. Ron walked to the other side of the flat, to Hermione's room to fetch himself something clean. He took a quick shower and got dressed. Upon returning to the living area he found his sister and best mate lying together on the oversized red couch drinking some wine.

Ron moved into the kitchen to make himself something to eat and could hear Harry relaying their battle, and Ron's performance.

Ron poured a healthy glass of wine for himself, and with his back turned to the red couch he thought to himself how much he loved being an Auror. It was the first thing in his life he had ever been really good at. With a smile, he couldn't wait to tell Hermione about his new stance.


	3. Chapter 2: Back to London

Chapter 2 – Back to London.

Hermione Granger exhaled a breath of relief as the wheels of the privately chartered Concorde touched down at London Heathrow Airport. It had been an exhausting trip to Quebec, Canada, and the three days seemed well over a week. She wasn't sure she had gotten any good sleep the entire time. Between security briefings, press conferences, public meetings, private meetings, public appearances and seeing the sights, she was whipped.

She hated traveling internationally these days, because it seemed to be all her job required. In this post for just over eighteen months, the majority of those months have seen the United Kingdom and United States lone allies in a war against the damn near the rest of the world. This made Hermione's job very difficult, and much more difficult than Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, ever implied.

Five years ago, when Voldemort began his final quest to gain power, Kingsley was the first wizard assigned to protect the Muggle Prime Minister by then Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour. He was assigned as a secretary, and only the Muggle Prime Minister knew his true purpose. In the current state of affairs of the world, the days of Kingsley or any other wizard or witch typing on a computer were long gone.

For much of this, Minister Shacklebolt was directly responsible. He forged a professional and personal relationship with the Muggle head of state, unlike his predecessors who merely treated the Muggle leaders like farm animals. As then acting Minister of Magic, Kingsley traveled to the Prime Minister's personal retreat as a diplomatic guest of the Prime Minister and his wife. He explained the magical world to him, abolishing any previous rules of secrecy between the two Ministers. Kingsley kept this meeting confidential from the majority of the wizarding world, and as far as most wizards and witches knew, Hermione and her team were merely Special Assistants to the Minister of Magic, dispatched on assignment.

The Muggle Minister asked Kingsley to return, making him the first Muggle to initiate contact into the Ministry. He asked Kingsley to brief several key government officials, including military, which Kingsley immediately refused. However, the acting minister proved a skilled diplomat remaining vigilant to keep negotiations open. Ultimately, Kingsley agreed to brief in future the Prime Minister, the department head for his personal security, and the department head for the security of the Royal Family. According to Kingsley the Muggle Prime Minister made excellent arguments for the agreed people, plus other high ranking heads of state to include the military. Kingsley admitted, he allowed the security service to be 'in the know' only to preserve future negotiations. He didn't want to start off with the Muggles carrying the stereotype of being unreasonable. The Special Branch Commander's request was perfectly clear and genuine when he demanded every asset on the island to help him protect the Prime Minister and the Royal Family.

These negotiations were concluded long before Hermione ever worked directly for the Minister of Magic. Several wizards and witches, some with very notable names, worked the detail to protect the Muggle head of state and monarchy. Unfortunately, it was Hermione who truly gave the post its current demands and requirements.

She was well aware that the stress of her job was her fault. "Hermione being Hermione" Ron always said. Upon appointment to the Muggle Prime Minister Hermione locked herself in her room for six days to do research. She only came out if and when she really had to, and that she did begrudgingly. Her preparation was nothing compared to her dedication once she reported for duty. She demanded access to almost every bit of information ever recorded anywhere, and of course was denied repeatedly.

Her job was protection, and using Kingsley's affection for the Muggle who required every tool to protect, Hermione demanded the same. After only a few months, Kingsley stopped telling to settle her down and for the most part turned her loose.

It wasn't just Kingsley who was apprehensive about her desire for involvement. She received significant resistance from the Muggles as well. There were only three people in the government who knew who she really was; it was the others who only knew her as a "Special Liaison" or a "Girl with a Classified Talent" who really fought her.

Finally, just over a year ago, after a heated, hour long argument with the Secret Services shift supervisor who refused to give her unescorted access to the Prime Minister's office and private residence, she decided to act. Of course she wanted to cast protection spells, and anti-listening spells George Weasley had perfected, but she couldn't tell him that. Her temper got the better of her, and she drew her wand. Carefully, of course, she moved to an empty hallway to shield the line of sight from the shift supervisor, who was not 'in the know', so he wouldn't see what she was about to accomplish.

A second later she was standing in the center of the Prime Minister's office, while he just looked up at her from his desk in complete astonishment. "May I help you, Hermione?" he asked, with a tone mixed partially with annoyance and partially with confusion.

"Sorry, Prime Minister, just proving a point. Only take a moment." She flicked her wand causing all of the curtains in his office to draw closed, walked behind his desk and touched the tip of her wand to the a electronic console on the wall she knew to be part of the security and communications system. She flicked her finger against her wand and spoke in an almost sterile voice.

"This is Hermione Granger; I have taken the Prime Minister hostage in his office. I demand one large pizza with everything on it, in small unmarked slices. One bottle of five pound red wine with a screw off cap, two paper cups, some napkins and one of those fantastic red office paper staplers the secretarial pool seems to be hoarding. You have two minutes to comply."

Hermione looked up at the Prime Minister who winked and was smiling at her. "Sorry to interrupt your schedule, sir, I know you're very busy."

The communications system she had just jabbed with her wand came to life almost immediately demanding an update of the status of the Prime Minister. There were what sounded like a hundred other panicked conversations in the background. The Prime Minister reached over to the console and flicked the switch.

Within five minutes there were ten other people in the Prime Minister's office besides him and Hermione. Everyone stood staring at her, just barely twenty-one; astonished. Considering it took Hermione less than five seconds to breach the inner security of one of the most powerful leaders in the free world, the mood was surprisingly non-hostile towards her.

The meeting went incredibly well, for Hermione. The next morning, Hermione was given the exact complement of magical and non-magical personnel support she asked for by way of the two Ministers communicating. The next Monday, she and the rest of her team were given Secret Services badges and officially a part of MI-5. By the end of the month they were moved into a top secret, secured laboratory-office combination, to which the only people who had access were Hermione's team and the Muggle Prime Minister.

After her display in the Prime Minister's office, a member of her team was present in all meetings pertaining to travel, appearances, and security. They became very busy all at once, but she and her hand picked team loved every second of it. No one could really blame her for what she did. It seemed fruitless to occupy a post merely for appearances.

If the famous witch Hermione Granger, in reputation alone, didn't deter someone magical from attacking the Muggle Minister, her level of security certainly would.

Regardless of all the amazing things she had done in her position, they had certainly taken their toll. The stress of her job was beating her down day by day. The job had nearly destroyed her relationship with Ron, whom she loved very much. For the last year, what little time they were able to spend together was filled with arguments and bickering. Plus, her friendships with Ginny, Harry, and the entire Weasley family were almost non-existent. They weren't cross in any way, just out of touch compliments of her long hours and constant travel. She missed family gatherings and dinners. It took nearly a month for her to squeeze enough time to see Bill and Fleur's new baby Victorie, and although Molly Weasley was sure to invite Hermione to every function without fail, Hermione was always sending an owl to politely cancel. This was especially hard in matters concerning Ginny, her best friend and roommate.

It had not always been like this. After Voldemort was killed, almost every single member of Dumbledore's Army had their pick of any job out there. Ron and Harry jumped on a free pass into Auror training; Ginny finished her last year at Hogwarts, then decided to play professional Quiddich for an all witch team. Ron dabbled with George in the joke shop to help make ends meet until the demands of Auror training made it impossible.

Ron and Harry had a rough time at first in Auror training. Especially Ron, but Harry as well. After a year off of school, and frankly, never really that studious to begin with they were not used to such intense academic rigor. They spent every morning in a strict classroom setting which assigned more homework daily than they were used to in a month at Hogwarts. This was followed by surprise exams, and every afternoon was spent in practical application of what they had just learned. With more homework, and even more exams. Hermione was extremely jealous of this academic life they led. She practically took the courses with them, having helped them for hours a night for the first year and a half. It wasn't until the start of their second year that things really started to stick with them both. Ron was actually first to crack the code on the requirements, but Harry was right behind him. Their grades improved dramatically, and the amount of work necessary to maintain those marks decreased. Life for the four of them took off with excitement. They spent countless evening hours dueling on the square roof of Ginny and Hermione's flat. It was like a grown up version of the DA, and they loved it. They tried new things, new tricks, and most of all new defenses. It was a riot for everyone, and their skills with a wand increased to at least ten times what they were at Hogwarts. Magic had never been this much fun. The three years of Ron and Harry's Auror training seemed to fly by, and when their graduation finally arrived, they had to practically carry Molly to the ceremony; she was so overcome with pride and tears. Even Arthur was mistier than normal. Honestly, there wasn't a dry eye in their entire row when the goofy red head, Harry Potter's sidekick, Ron, stood up and now answered to the title Auror Ronald Weasley. That was a good day for everyone.

Hermione, however, took a long time to decide where she would work, ultimately deciding to take a position in the Department of Magical Creatures. They were thrilled to have her, and she capitalized on the opportunity to champion the rights of house-elves and goblins. At first she found herself facing exceeding resistance. Simultaneously, Harry and Ron were promoted rapidly and in turn spearheaded an overhaul of the Auror department, and Neville Longbottom attacked pure-blood laws. One by one, minds were changed, and one by one archaic laws were abolished. It was a new ministry, and they had the loudest voice.

Hermione began to have one success after another in her work, and it seemed that she and Ron could not be happier. Everything had changed one day, about two years ago, and she wondered if things would ever be the same in her life. Ron and Harry were indisposed on classified Auror business, leaving Ginny and Hermione at home on a bank-holiday weekend, bored out of their minds. On a whim they decided to travel to watch the Quidditch World Cup located that year in the outskirts of Barcelona. Ginny pulled some strings using her connections as an All-Star in the witches' league to secure a very luxurious box.

Hermione and Ginny uncovered a dark wizard named Nigel Radavanovic in Barcelona and moved in to arrest him. Ginny was knocked unconscious, leaving Hermione to dispatch two evil wizards before finally engaging the master. When the smoke cleared it had taken her almost two hours of non-stop spell casting to finally beat Nigel Radavanovic. The entire wizarding community hailed the achievement, although the magical exhaustion Hermione incurred as a result led to a weeks stay in St. Mungo's followed by another two weeks at home.

The Daily Prophet called her duel with Nigel Radavanovic the greatest duel in 50 years. With simple research, she had inadvertently uncovered a corrupt organization intent on supplanting the Minister of Magic, and gaining access to two different super-weapon type artifacts to assist in an attempt to take over the Ministry. Hermione Granger became the second youngest witch to receive an Order of Merlin-Second Class. She was still the youngest witch to ever receive a First Class, thanks to her part in ending Voldemort, but Ginny was only sixteen when she received a Second Class for leading Dumbledore's Army against the Carrow's at Hogwarts..

After such an impressive display of magic, Minister Shacklebolt asked Hermione to join the Auror Academy saying "such skill should be best used in protection of us all." Hermione refused politely, but did accept a position on his personal staff. Kingsley took it upon himself to mentor her privately in Auror ways. Six months later, with no formal training Hermione aced the Auror exams, both written and practical. Kingsley used his executive powers to grant her the title of Auror, and reassigned her to join the Muggle Minister's protection detail, of which she was now in charge.

Ron had always been incredibly proud of everything Hermione had done. However, it was Hermione who was not happy anymore. She loved him very much, but the two of them were no longer connecting. Ron appeared extremely happy with his life. He and Harry loved their jobs, and had a ball doing them. This infuriated Hermione even more. They never took things seriously, and the same childish behavior she had to put up with at Hogwarts seemed to be her curse so long as she dated Ron.

Hermione glanced outside the window of the aircraft as it taxied towards a secure hanger at Heathrow. She closed her packets of Muggle intelligence files and security reports, placing them in her briefcase. She knew full well she would be returning to the reports soon enough. In her job there was always some report stamped 'Urgent' that caused the world to stop moving until it was read in its entirety.

Perhaps one reason her trip had been so unnerving was because of the way Ron was acting before she left for Quebec. Hermione was the type of department head who insisted she be the magical agent escorting the Muggle Minister on all high-profile or high-risk ventures. This was a legitimate concern as she was, in fact, the strongest witch on her staff. However, with all things Hermione, high-profile or high-risk was pretty much every single time the Minister left his office. So Hermione was always, always, always working.

It was this point that started Ron off. He asked her for what she believed to be the hundredth time why someone else could not make the trip to Canada. Already infuriated by his childishness, and his insensitive tone, Hermione was set off. They fought for the entire three hours she had scheduled as private time with him, and she nearly missed her flight. She was sure this was his sole intention. She told him they would finish discussing this when she returned on Tuesday. It was now Tuesday evening, and once she walked in the door of her flat, she assured herself, the argument would continue.

She had really reached her breaking point with him. It was time for him to grow up, and this argument would continue until he realized she was right. The Muggle Minister had planned three days at his family's retreat immediately following the Quebec trip. Hermione did not need to travel with him for this, so her schedule was clear for the next three days to beat Ron into submission emotionally. This was exactly what she was going to do.

Their relationship was almost five years old now; it was time for him to stop acting the school boy and become a man. Harry and Ginny had been together just as long and they got along famously. Harry was able to grow up quite quickly after the Voldemort battle, but Ron seemed determined to remain a child forever. Harry and Ginny had been engaged for almost a year now, and their wedding was fast approaching. Ron and Hermione's relationship had not moved one step forward since the day when Harry presented Ginny a silver and gold engagement ring.

The Concorde finally came to a halt, and Hermione heard the engines power down, followed by the sounds of a hundred lap-restraints unfastening. She glanced out the window and saw six black cruisers and one black executive limousine parked in a line alongside the aircraft. This was the Minister's convoy to take him back to his residence. Several people dressed in suits and sunglasses scrambled around on the taxi-way in anticipation of the arriving Minister. One man, however, was not scrambling around.

He stood silently in front of the second black cruiser, wearing a tailored Muggle suit and a long khaki overcoat. His face was chiseled, and he wore dark black sunglasses. The casual eye would identify him as a member of the Minister's Secret Services, and that was a fair observation. What people didn't know was that he was also an Auror. His name was Jonas Quaid, and he was Hermione's second in command. He was a perfect match to her leadership style, and was not even slightly fussed working for a witch, or for someone fifteen years younger than him. He supported her publicly, offered his opinion privately, and really did make her job easier. Their relationship was excessively professional, and she did trust him had agreed to take the detail for the remainder of the week, giving Hermione some much needed rest.

It took about ten minutes for Hermione to deplane and get her bag from storage. She always had to look the part, though her Muggle suitcase on wheels had nothing in it except a small hand bag with a fantastic storage charm on it.

She walked from the plane down the wheeled stairs to the pavement like everyone else on board, secured her bag and walked alone over to Jonas with her bag in tow. Wearing dark sunglasses, she smiled as she approached him.

"Anything exciting?" Jonas asked, moving as little of his mouth as possible when speaking.

Hermione did not answer, instead shaking her head while pursing her lips. She took a last long survey of the people around. The Minister was talking to a few military officers and was surrounded by an entire strike team not ten meters from where she stood. Jonas handed her two thick intelligence files in a brown envelope marked Classified. Hermione widened her eyes in exaggerated astonishment at the size of the files.

"More on this guy?" she gasped.

Jonas just smiled. "Some bedtime reading, sure to put you to sleep." Jonas took position to Hermione's left, one half-step behind out of respect for her authority, as she walked towards the last cruiser in the convoy. "Weasley and Potter got into a scrap earlier," he added casually.

"Great," Hermione responded with a disappointed tone. "Do I even wanna know?" Jonas was well aware of Hermione's history, her close friendship with Harry and her romantic involvement with Ron. He was aware, but neither of the ever spoke of their personal lives. Hermione wasn't even sure she knew Jonas's wife's name, as they had only met once, everything between Hermione and Jonas was always business.

"Probably not," Jonas laughed, "but it was good stuff, though. I'm supposed to attend a class taught by Weasley next month. Other Aurors say his classes are quite the riot."

Hermione smiled politely but rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses. "Right then," she said as Jonas opened the door to his cruiser for her. "Contact me if there is anything, Jonas." He nodded as she climbed into the back seat of the cruiser alone. Jonas shut the door and Hermione took one last look around through the tinted windows as she firmly grabbed her Muggle suitcase wither hand. No one was watching her as far as she could tell, as it was next to impossible to see inside one of these cruisers. Hermione unbuttoned the top button of her suit blazer and reached inside. With her left index finger she gently touched the hilt of her wand, and vanished with a _crack!_


	4. Chapter 3: Hermione's Ultimatum

Chapter 3  
**Hermione's Ultimatum**

Hermione appeared on the roof on her flat after Disapparating from the backseat of a cruiser at Heathrow. She let out a sigh of relief once her feet touched down on the hard surface of her and Ginny's place. It was good to be home. For the next three days, she could rest and perhaps even unwind. No more Muggle gadgets and technology, at least for the time being. Her trip had been long, and she missed her friends.

She looked down at her watch to see it was just past nine in the evening. Usually, international flights arrive in the morning from the States, departing in the evening and traveling during the night. They were six hours ahead from the east coast, while jetlagged; it was still the middle of the afternoon by her internal clock. She thought perhaps, if she and Ron could work through things quickly, there might be an opportunity to stay up late together; intimately. Perhaps she might even be able to tolerate hearing about the scrap Jonas told her about.

This helped force the thoughts of work from her mind, as she wished she could charm herself with some jinx that would make her relax for the next three days. Unfortunately, she probably wouldn't see much relaxed time. Ron would ensure she didn't. She needed to deal with him, and even though this was her apartment, she hoped he would be inside. Ron and Harry were over at her and Ginny's flat nearly all the time. It wasn't the most centralized location, as Ginny and she picked it out simply because it was out of the magical community. Hermione worked three streets away, and Ginny got to whichever location she needed by Apparition or Portkey. Ron and Harry stayed in Sirius's old house at number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. It was perfect for two boys, but the girls had refused to live there.

Hermione turned and headed towards the rooftop entrance staircase to their flat. She really hoped that Ron was there, and not involved in some sort of childish activity with Harry. It was not uncommon to find the boys dueling on the rooftop for practice; in fact, she was a bit surprised they weren't up there tonight, as it wasn't terribly chilly for March.

Hermione and Ginny spent hours casting spells to conceal anything and everything up here. She didn't want the Muggles to see any of their magic. It became necessary during Ron and Harry's Auror training for them to have a protected place to practice when they were away from the Academy. Hermione learned quickly that the boys couldn't be trusted. She arrived one day to see them torturing each other with, of all things, the Cruciatus Curse. She was so stunned when she figured out what they were doing she couldn't even move. Typical immature behavior for Ron, but she was a little shocked that Harry was involved.

She tapped the lock of the antique gold door latch with her wand and opened the door. Walking down four steps, she dropped her Muggle bag. The wooden stairs turned left and descended into their living room. As she descended, her giant red couch came into view, where she could make out the legs and socked feet of Harry and Ginny, who were lying together in front of the fire. It wasn't until she reached the second to last step that she could see into the kitchen where Ron was sitting at the table eating a sandwich, and reading the Prophet. He had an open bottle of red wine, and a wine glass to his left that looked about three-quarters empty. She wasn't surprised when her heart started beating in anger at seeing him drinking.

Ron looked over and saw her. His face lit up with big smile as he stood from the table. "Hey!" he beamed, as she walked over to the table and stared at the bottle of wine. "How was your trip?" He stood next to her awkwardly as if expecting a kiss, but Hermione picked up the bottle of wine instead, examining its volume.

"How much of this have you had?" she scolded, upon seeing there was barely one glass' worth left in the bottle.

"First glass, Hermione; glad you had a nice trip," Ron replied with sarcasm, pointing over to the couch where, from its backside she could see two arms raised vertically, Harry and Ginny each holding a glass of wine for her to see.

Publicly pointing our her error made her even madder and without a kiss she turned away from Ron and walked into the living room. She sat down in a stuffed brown chair and began to take off her shoes. She unclipped two different electronic pagers and a cellular phone from her belt and dropped them on the end table. After unbuttoning her blazer, she removed a small pistol and dropped it too, on the table. No one paid it any mind; it had a Locking Jinx on it. Only Hermione could unlock it. These were tools of her job, and Ron and Ginny had given up on making fun of her about them.

Ron stood in the kitchen for a moment with a bewildered look on his face before grabbing his glass. He walked into the living room and kicked the couch causing Ginny and Harry to curl heir legs up and make room for him. With a groan that Hermione didn't notice, he plopped down on the couch.

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione exhaled condescendingly once she took off both her shoes. She sat up and leaned back in the stuffed chair, taking a stare into the fire.

Harry and Ginny were on the couch together; at least she assumed it was Harry. All she could see of him was his arm around Ginny's waist holding his glass of wine, as his face appeared buried in her hair on a pillow behind her. Harry hadn't moved, as if trying to maintain the nap her arrival interrupted; Ginny was on her side looking at her with droopy eyes.

Hermione looked around the flat, and then gazed up to the skylight on the roof. She took a deep breath and turned her head to Ron.

"Can we talk?" she asked in her softest voice so as to not draw too much attention, but still half expecting Harry to make some sort of noise implying Ron was in trouble. It was Harry who spoke first, but what he said shocked her.

"I win," Harry snorted in a muffled voice as he attempted to speak through a throw pillow.

"How you figure?" Ginny's eyes turned huge as she crooked her head as far as she could to her right to try to see Harry. Ron didn't say a word, merely stared at his glass of wine in an attempt to avoid all eye contact.

"What?" Hermione asked, puzzled, but no one answered her. Harry spoke in response to Ginny's question, not hers.

"You said she'd walk in and pull Ron aside in less than ten words. 'HOW-MUCH-OF-THIS-HAVE-YOU-HAD,'" Harry said, using the arm and hand upon which Ginny was laying to count each word for her. "'HONESTLY-RON-CAN-WE-TALK.' That's twelve words!" His voice was still muffled as his head had not moved from when he was asleep. Harry flattened his palm, still without exposing his face. "Pay up!"

Hermione was furious at the three of them. She was gone for three days protecting the Minister and had to come home to this?

"I still said she would pick at him before she spoke to us, which she did so I should get partial credit," Ginny sassed while crossing her arms in a pout. Harry said nothing but gestured repeatedly with his flat palm, awaiting payment. Ginny blew her fringe out of her face, exhaled and wiggled her shoulders getting comfortable against Harry again. "I'll pay you later. Go back to sleep." Harry's flat palm changed to a 'thumbs up' and then went limp.

Ron looked up from his glass to see Hermione glaring at him and crossing her arms defensively. "What?"

"I suppose you think that is supposed to be funny?" she said in a slightly raised voice.

"The official boyfriend guide book requires I answer, 'no,'" Ron replied without missing a beat. He stood up and turned towards the kitchen as he heard Ginny and Harry giggling. "Thanks, mate," he whispered under his breath to Harry, which just made he and Ginny giggle even more.

Ron moved to the kitchen table and poured the last of the wine into his glass filling it almost to the rim. He wasn't surprised to hear Hermione behind him, having gotten up from her chair to follow him.

"Oh, that's just great Ron, I ask you to talk, get made fun of, and your first reaction is to get another drink."

"Shit, Hermione, if I'm gonna get smacked around, might as well be a little pissed for it." Ron threw the empty bottle into the trash, and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Hermione to stand there and gawk at him. He walked slowly up the stairs heading to the roof, knowing full well she would follow. She did.

Hermione shut the door to the roof behind her and turned to join him. He was sitting in one of the four chairs where the corner of the roof that overlooked the park below. Sitting with his legs crossed at the ankle, he lit a cigar her father had given him for Christmas with his wand. Ron was very different from his days at Hogwart's in appearance. Auror training chiseled off what little baby fat he had left, leaving a very toned, handsome, and slender man in its place. His hair was not as brightly red as it was in his childhood and worn short these days, as he said it was easier to manage. In the moonlight she could se he hadn't shaved in at least two days. He and Harry were big fans of the scruffy look, which drove her and Ginny mad. She knew they only grew the stubble simply because they could. What clumsiness and awkwardness Ron once had was gone and he wasn't so much of a mouth breather anymore.

Hermione moved to the seat across from him. She took a minute to compose herself, and then looked at him. He was looking back at her, not saying a word.

"I wish to continue our discussion from Saturday, please," she started. He looked as if he was going to correct her, but then chose to remain silent. "I've got a few things I'd like to get off my chest, so please just let me finish." Ron nodded, taking a sip of his wine.

"You asked me months ago to take this weekend off so we could spend time together. I told you I would do my best, but when I contacted you last Monday to tell you we were going to Quebec you treated me quite unfairly." Ron's face didn't flinch, which shocked her a little. "You spent all week trying to get me to cancel my trip, which is extremely unfair. I don't appreciate you putting our relationship out there as some sort of guilt trip to force me into stupid thing you want to do, Ronald. I'm extremely busy with the Muggle Minister and protecting him is a full time job, one I take quite seriously. I think you don't realize what my work demands of me, and I think your attitude towards my contribution to our relationship is incredibly selfish."

Ron still hadn't made so much as a facial tic in response to what she was saying. He only sat there taking sips of wine and puffs off his cigar. This upset her even more, so she decided to step up the scolding.

"I actually have some things that have been bothering me for a long time, Ron. You continue to gaff off any responsibility pertaining to us, and your childishness and immaturity is getting old. Honestly, Ron, I would have thought you would have grown up a little by now. I'm not sure what you want from this relationship, but what I want is an equal. Not a child. I've told you before I'm not even sure I want to have children, I'm certain I don't wish to date one. I need someone who makes me happy, not make me wonder what trouble they are getting into if I decide to take my eye off them. Life is not all fun and games, and you refuse to let go of that little boy who always joked around at Hogwarts. I mean, come on Ron, you and Harry were using the Cruciatus Curse on each other. An Unforgivable Curse, Ron! An Unforgivable Curse! Just because you were in Auror training at the time doesn't excuse that behavior! Honestly, you talk so much about children, what would you do if your child did that? You would have no authority to scold them after the example you set. You talk about us getting married one day, and I just don't see how that's possible Ron, not with you like this. You are selfish, you disrespect me by being so childish, and you take no responsibility for anything. It's time to grow up, Ron, and do something important with your life."

When she finished she didn't realize she was standing up and nearly shouting at him. He was still sitting with his legs crossed. She stood there for a few seconds waiting for him to say something before speaking. "Well?"

"Oh, you are finished?" He said in an overly calm voice. He leaned forward in his chair and too a big gulp of his wine. "Please, have a seat," he gestured for her to sit, and after an awkward pause, she did.

"I love you Hermione," he said catching her off guard. "I love you, and I think –"

"Oh, don't change the subject Ronald," Hermione snorted in interruption, she plopped back in her chair rolling her eyes looking away from him towards the sky.

"For fuck's sake, you asked, before your nicely prepared speech there that I not interrupt you. Well, I assumed the same rules applied to me. Please refrain from being, what was it, oh, disrespectful and selfish and allow me to finish. I assure you what I have to say to that will not take long."

She exhaled through her nose and glared at him. If she had anything to say about it, as soon as he finished whatever nonsense he was about to throw, her retort would still be going on at sunrise and probably be heard as far north as Scotland. Nodding her head defiantly, she urged him to proceed.

"As I was saying, Hermione, I love you. I find it funny that, in a loving relationship, you are incapable of even saying a nice word to me after your trip. Let alone that you love me. Which in case you were wondering, the last time you told me you loved me was on your pathetic excuse for Valentine's Day, when you came home from work after midnight, and went right to sleep. And that you said with about as much feeling as a Dementor, probably just to shut me up. What kind of relationship is that?"

She knew the question was rhetorical, and fought back the urge to interrupt him again. Her face was not as steely as his; however, she reacted to each thing he said with one form of eye rolling or another.

"You sit there pointing your finger at me, saying I'm acting like a child and refusing to change, when you should be pointing the finger at yourself. You're the one who's stuck in the past. It's you who's refusing to change. You're the only one who thinks I'm immature. I am a fucking Auror! You think this is easy? You think I could do this job if I wasn't dedicated? You think I spend all day throwing dung bombs at the wizards and witches I chase down? Do you have any idea what I do? Of course not, because you never ask. I got out of the habit of telling you about my day about eight months ago because you stopped asking. Seriously, Hermione, I think you liked being Hermione Granger, the girl who is such a wonderful person she can put up with that Weasley boy. You acted like this right after I started Auror training, like you were jealous. Even though you could have been in the class with Harry and me easily. This goes back to Hogwarts; you hated being bested, you always had to be the one on top. Whether it was Harry in potions, or if someone mastered a spell before you in the DA. You are incredibly jealous, Hermione, and extremely competitive. It's one of the things I love about you, but I would have thought you would have moved past being competitive with me. You can't handle that I am not this helpless kid anymore."

Hermione got up and paced over to the edge of the building overlooking the street below. Ron stayed where he was for a moment, and then got up to continue. He knew she was furious, and thought his argument was completely without merit. 

"I did some shit tonight with wands that would have surely sent you running to the library. And after that fight was over, like an idiot, I couldn't wait to get home and tell you all about it. Like an idiot I got excited at the idea of magical theory crafting with you, and like an idiot I didn't see the thud of disappointment coming because let's face it, you don't care. I'm fucking dilusional."

"We should have had this conversation years ago, but then you fought Radavanovic. Bloody fantastic fight that was, but your mood changed because you were back on top again. You were better than all of us, so you were happy. Slowly that wore off, and now here we are—again. Even when we aren't fighting, you still have to be the best. If I mention anything I did in the Battle for Hogwarts within two seconds you'll point out that you fought Bellatrix, making sure to point out you did it with her wand. That's the way everything is with you, and I am sick of being your number one target as if first and foremost you have to be better than me. I'm not helpless; in fact I'm pretty damn good. So good, you 'know' you probably can't beat me with a wand, and that's why we fight every day. Then you turn around and pour yourself in your work just because you and I are such a miserable couple. Don't think I haven't noticed." 

"I don't give a shit, that I can beat you in a duel. Though I'm sure you're rattling your brain right now to see if that could possibly be true. You're strong, but I'm a better fighter. Apples and oranges, the yanks say."

Ron paused a moment, as if he was debating whether or not to say something on his mind. Hermione wasn't even looking at him now; they stood side by side leaning on the brick half wall overlooking the street. Ron's voice softened.

"For the record, about Crucio, in case you were wondering; I had a year and a half's worth of nightmares to determine the number was sixty three."

Hermione looked at him puzzled, not understanding.

"Sixty three seconds, actually, was how long Bellatrix had you under the Cruciatus Curse. My nightmares of being in that basement, helpless while you were being tortured, scratching my fingernails into the wood trying to get to you. Well, they weren't getting better. Harry suggested I need to understand, but only for a second. I convinced him to go for it all. You scolded us, but what you don't realize is that I lay in bed and cried for two days after that. Me, the one with the emotional range of a teaspoon, yes, I cried. About you, of course! You're the only thing on this earth I could cry over. I needed to know what you went through, and finally I did. It shattered my heart, to see what you endured. Only someone as wonderful and strong as you could have withstood that curse and maintained the composure to fight on. You fought that bitch Bellatrix after she had you under her wand. When I realized what an amazing woman you are, and that you loved me, well, let's just say if you could buy that level of peace in a bottle, you'd be wealthier than the queen. In time, my nightmares got a bit better."

Ron turned away, hiding the tears Hermione saw as a tear streaked down her face as well. He had finally broken through her defenses. With his back to her, he continued. "And the funny thing is, because of that day when you were so disappointed in me, we think there might actually be a way to break Crucio. I'm actually discovering quite a talent for curse logic, Harry and I have been working on all sorts of theoretical magic. Between blocking, new tactical theory, to advanced non-verbal and even wandless magic. We thought for sure you would be into this sort of stuff, but you just write me off as being an idiot. We have learned loads, stuff than can change lives, and save lives; fucking immature, hardly. However, instead of being immature and irresponsible, as you say, I think, I honestly think, there is a way to break these curses, and dammit I will use my authority to find out. Sadly, that requires more testing, which we are a tad reluctant to get into for obvious reasons. Crucio fucking hurts," he said with a laugh.

Ron held up his wine glass as if searching for another swig that was not there. He tapped the rim of the glass with his wand, and it refilled. He took two big gulps of courage before continuing.

"I love you, Hermione, but this isn't working. You need to realize that being in a relationship is not being in competition with each other. If we were married, they only thing in this world I would want to be good at would be being your husband. You seem to think I care whether or not you are a better wand than me; you seem to think I am interested in competing with you in any event. I'm not. I know you are fantastic at your job, hell, even 'I' wouldn't come after the Muggle Minister with your security. Bloody suicide that'd be for sure. It's almost as suicidal as trying to be in a relationship with you, Hermione. Do you think I don't know how strong you are? Do you think I really care so little about you, and about us? If we were married –"

"Married?" Hermione reached the end of her patience. She turning to round on him. She couldn't keep quiet anymore. "Don't even act like you have ever even thought about—"

Ron held up a hand to silence her, which she did out of only pure shock and rage. He held his palm in front of her face for a brief second while he took another swig of wine. Ron's brow furrowed as he made eye contact with her glare and snapped his fingers dramatically. Something appeared in his hand out of thin air, but she couldn't see what it was.

"Wandless and non-verbal," he snorted at her, "it's really quite simple, can you do that? I would think in your profession, given that your wand must be more concealed than normal, you'd jump at wandless theory. Oh, wait, Ron Weasley doesn't know dick."

Hermione crossed her arms defiantly as she breathed fiercely out of her nose. Ron stepped forward and turned his hand over, exposing a small black box. Hermione ascertained immediately, it was a box for jewelry, most likely an engagement ring. Her heart missed no beats, and there was no emotional flutter. In fact, the sight of a ring box ignited her rage even more.

"Oh, don't even!" Hermione yelled turning her back to him with a wisp of flying brown hair.

"Don't worry," Ron said coldly, moving in behind her, "I'm not!"

Hermione turned back around to face him, and for the first time saw pure rage in Ron's face. The look in his eyes scared her to death. Shocked, she realized suddenly, he wasn't just defending himself because that's what people do in fights. He was genuinely furious at her.

"I wanted you to see this, it 'was' your Valentine's Day present," Ron said adding special emphasis to the word 'was.' Inside sat a beautiful engagement ring, whose lone diamond twinkled in the moonlight. "It's March now, and that Valentine's Day you screwed me on, while you were too busy working, I sat around all night waiting to give you this. Waiting to ask you to join our lives together. You didn't even notice your entire flat was littered with candles, roses, hell you didn't even notice the food I made. You came in and went straight to bed on freaking Valentine's. Who does that?"

"Ron, I," Sensing a catastrophic error in judgment, Hermione felt the conversation spiral out of control. She couldn't take her eyes off the ring in his hand.

"Then I asked you to clear your weekend for us, so that you and I could spend the weekend in Paris with your parents! Your Pop and I had been planning it for about two months, and was supposed to be a surprise for you and your mum. Since I couldn't propose, I figured I would do it there, but again, you screwed me there too. I've been poor all my life, but after the Galleons I'd thrown away you're lucky you had to work. Your parents said they had a wonderful time. I figured since I'd never actually asked for you to take a specific day off work, you might actually think I had something special planned. Hell, I've been dropping hints for weeks, but you don't think me capable of such things, so you dismissed it as me being childish. That's what I'm sick of, and is something that will stop now."

Ron took a deep breath for courage and turned to look Hermione directly in the eyes. He touched her face and smiled with tears in his eyes. _Oh, no, he's gonna do it._

"I love you Hermione Granger, I always have and I always will." He paused as a tear escaped down his cheek. With a _snap_ he closed the ring box and stuffed it into a pocket in his robes. "Our relationship is over until you can see me as an equal, not a child. I'm not interested in being involved in anything that isn't mutually loving and respectful. Whatever you have going on in your life, I want no part of it with the way you see me now. In fact, I really don't even want to be around you. I am an Auror who loves you with every ounce of his soul. An Auror because of you perhaps, but I'm still an Auror, not a child."

Ron let his words trail off, and took a step back from her. He turned and walked away from her slowly. For a moment Hermione was so stunned she couldn't even speak. This conversation had taken a turn she hadn't even fathomed. Her mind raced as if to replay it all from the angle that he was about to leave her. Her heart crumbled in her throat; she never saw this coming and tears came much quicker than she expected.

"Y-You're, you're leaving me?" she gasped, her voice soft despite the tears.

"Yes," he replied.

"Is there someone else, Ron?" She didn't know what else to say; she was confused and she didn't understand. It was the only thing that made sense. He was attacking with such anger. Surely he hadn't meant all of those mean things he just said. There had to be another. "Is there another girl?"

Ron did not turn to face her, and took a few long seconds to respond. "If you ever ask me that again, Hermione Granger, you'd best have a wand in your hand when you do." She could hear hurt in his voice, that she even asked him.

"Then why? Ron?" she asked on the verge of pleading. "Talk to me."

Ron did not turn, instead placed his empty wine glass on the table next to where he had been sitting earlier. He took one last deep breath, shook his head, and Disapparated.

Hermione stood alone on the rooftop and felt nothing. Her heart wasn't cold, it was broken.

* * *

Hermione sat down in the stuffed chair in the living room. The room was dim, as the fire in the fireplace was nothing more than smoldering coals. She didn't realize they were up on the roof so long; the conversation seemed to go so quickly. Too quickly to remember. That or she had stayed alone up there a lot longer than she realized. With trembling hands, she pulled a small blanket onto her lap.

"You guys are getting good at this," Harry sounded off with the same muffled voice. Only this time he sounded more asleep. "Gotta be some sort of record for you two, Hermione."

She didn't answer, just stared at the fire silently, tears streaming off her chin in a downpour.

"Right then, you get him sorted?" asked Ginny, whose eyes were closed as she snoozed on the couch.

Hermione was forced to clear her throat before speaking. "Apparently, not. He just left me," she said with the softest tone.

"Hmph, yeah right!" Harry's muffled voice echoed without him moving.

Again, Hermione didn't answer.

Ginny opened her eyes and squinted through the darkness in Hermione's direction. She gasped and sat up as fast as she could, pulling out her wand and screaming "_LUMOS_!" Her wand light lit up the room fully exposing Hermione's tear stricken face. "Oh my god!" Ginny shrieked and ran over to her.

Harry leapt up and looked at Hermione. "Oh, no!" he sighed as he pulled his glasses down from the top of his head. "Where's Ron?" he demanded.

Hermione shook her head slightly and continued to stare into the fire.

Harry grabbed his shoes, made quick eye contact with Ginny, jumped over the back of the couch and climbed the stairs to the roof. The door hadn't completely closed as a loud _crack_ signified Harry had just Disapparated from the flat.

The unthinkable had just happened.


	5. Chapter 4: The Epiphany

Chapter 4  
**The Epiphany**

July 8, 1989

Serahn rode alone in the backseat of his luxurious limousine through the streets of London, enjoying a nice patch of sun between the summer storms. He soaked in the fresh air before what would probably be at least three stuffy hours inside another boardroom discussing financial s. His driver, Edmond, suggested taking a stroll through the east side of Kensington Gardens, which they were approaching. Serahn nodded in agreement, deciding it would be good to stretch his legs.

After a minute the car pulled over, he was let out of the back, and stood for a moment taking in the sun on his face and the smell of freshly cut grass. Serahn wore an expensive tailored suit, an Italian cut, dark charcoal, grey-black ensemble. It may have been summer, but Serahn's color palette revolved only around the color black. It was Black that brought him to the life he now adored, Black that brought him his fortune and Black that made him who was today.

Behind dark sunglasses Edmond stood next to him, also wearing a black suit. He held the door ajar as his boss stepped onto the footpath. Locked in the Imperius Curse, Edmond's face was expressionless. He had been for years, and Serahn appreciated the magically induced loyalty. It had been awkward at first for Serahn, once he realized he was alone with this magic. Sure, cursing his way into a few pounds here and there was easy. He even learned to curse his way to make people give him things of value, but he quickly learned there could be consequences. Eventually someone came around asking too many questions.

Serahn learned this painful lesson after he acquired his first car, a lovely sporty little thing. He zapped the salesman, forcing him to hand over the keys, but three days later the salesman's manager fired him and called the police. Luckily the salesman was still under Serahn's control, so making him confess to giving the auto to Serahn for free was easy. That was an extremely close call, one that could have easily taken his wand from him. Only after some tricky wand work, did the police reluctantly drop the investigation against him. Serahn made a point not to make a mistake like that again. It took weeks of planning and cursing to get his fingerprints out of their files. In fact, recovering from that mistake cost several people their jobs. In the end, Serahn opted to move north, and create a new identity, which was the name under which he currently thrived.

Serahn learned quickly to not curse bill collectors, as the debt would still remain, thus tarnishing his name and his credit. To acquire capital he merely cursed someone to steal for him, and then fence the new acquisition at various and random locations around London. Serahn would curse the buyer, to pay top dollar or more, and technology or not, cash was still untraceable. Once there was enough cash, the controlled civilian would be released, with no memory of committing a crime leaving Serahn with clean hands. A similar operation allowed Serahn to acquire his second car, another lovely sporty thing, which he still owned, having paid for it in cash. In time, he needed to figure out how to launder his money to avoid suspicion. However, that did not require magic.

Over the years Serahn relied less and less on his wand to get him what he wanted. He began to amass wealth, and even a small amount of power. He started a few businesses that took off financially, and was smart enough to get those businesses into computers which were truly the market for the next generation. Everything he had now was legitimate, as far as anyone could tell. He paid his taxes, donated money to charity and was a well respected member of the community. A good portion of his resources invested in and researched the new equipment in the world of computers. Serahn and his activities were always on the cutting edge of technology, both legally and illegally. He created alias's, fronts for other fronts, and moved money around randomly to avoid being tracked by anyone. This required very little magic, though all of his accountants were under his control.

He remembered what Bellatrix said to him about not getting caught with a wand. Well, he spent his life hiding the fact he had one, though it never was more that two inches from him at any given time. It allowed him to sleep well at night, knowing no one was suspicious, and that no one was coming after him.

Life was good, and as he strolled through the park he didn't think life could get any better. He followed a stone footpath down through the park leading past groomed trees towards a long pond. Several children were running nearby through the grass, with their parents closely behind keeping a watchful eye. There were a few boys fishing on a bridge crossing the pond and several vacant benches lining the shore.

Serahn continued his leisurely stroll around the pond, with Edmond close behind him so as not to intrude. He came upon a bench occupied by an old man who was giggling and cackling to himself while writing with a quill. Serahn thought to himself, what a peculiar sight this was to see someone writing with a quill in this day and age.

"Good afternoon to you, old timer," Serahn bowed politely as he walked past the man on his way around the shore. The man looked up frantically, before returning the greeting with the same level of respect to the well-dressed Serahn.

The man was all sorts of odd in appearance. His clothing was about twenty years out of date and appeared to have been thrown on completely at random. His shirt was on backwards with a sweater vest on over it, in July, inside out. His hair was long and stringy, with a brown gray beard in need of much repair.

He sat fiddling with his things for another moment until he realized Serahn was not moving past. He stood there at the shore as if studying the pond and everyone around it. The man began to act even more uncomfortable. In a huff, he packed up his things strewn about all over the wooden bench. Loose parchments, quills, ink bottles and even a few antique-looking books were scattered in every direction. One by one he grabbed each of them and stuffed them into the breast pocket of his inside-out sweater vest—since the pocket was on the outside. This seemed increasingly odd to Serahn, who was watching out of the corner of his eye.

The old man stuffed six quills and two full bottles of ink into a pocket no larger than his fist, and the pocket didn't even make a bulge. After four more large rolls of parchment were tucked into the same pocket with the same effect, Serahn knew something was unique about this man. The man picked up the last three books, folding them closed and moved as if to place them into the same pocket, but hesitated. The man seemed to know he was being watched.

He scooped up the last of his things with the books and got up. "Good day to you, sir," he said with a polite bow and turned to walk away. Serahn subtly moved his left hand, which the old man did not notice.

Just as he turned, two books slipped from under his arm, releasing an avalanche of his belongings. Parchments, books, several brown leather pouches and a variety of other junk hit the path as the man cursed his clumsiness. And there it was.

Serahn saw, sticking out from under a roll of parchment, a long wooden stick made of a dark twisted vine with a type of tweed handle. _AT LAST! A WIZARD! _Serahn screamed inside his head without making so much as a facial tic.

The man did not notice his wand was exposed; otherwise he surely would have retrieved it. Serahn still wasn't completely convinced this man was a wizard; there was only one way to be sure.

He looked back up the path to where Edmond was standing keeping his eye on his boss. Serahn made eye contact with him and gained his attention with a subtle head move. Edmond responded with a nod. Serahn reached up and grabbed his left ear, which was a signal to Edmond to act.

Edmond moved into a position directly behind the elderly man by about thirty meters. He crouched down to a squat, in preparation to move just in case what he was about to do had any sort of unseen consequences. As the man gathered the last of his things, Edmond raised both hands to cup around his mouth. He took in a deep breath, and shouted the only magical word he knew, "_REDUCTO_!"

The old man flinched wildly dropping the rest of his things and picked up his wand. He spun around to see Edmond standing quite a bit away with no wand, and not attacking. The man was puzzled as he cocked his head to squint at Edmond, his wand honed in on him.

Serahn's curse hit the old man from behind, he never saw it coming.

"Your wand please, sir," Serahn commanded, holding out his hand. "What's your name?"

"Jefferson Hornbuckle," the man replied without hesitation, under complete control of Serahn's curse.

"I'd be honored if you would join us, Mister Hornbuckle. Please collect your things and follow me."

Serahn passed by Hornbuckle and continued his stroll back towards his car. Hornbuckle hustled quickly behind him to keep up. When they arrived at the limousine Edmond was waiting with the door open. Hornbuckle got in first, followed by Serahn. Edmond closed the door tightly and moved to position himself in the driver's seat.

"Edmond, please have my schedule cleared for the rest of the day," Serahn spoke from the back seat to his driver, who nodded agreement. Serahn activated the switch to seal the divider between the passenger compartment and Edmond. "Home, please," he said as the divider sealed shut.

Hornbuckle sat backwards on the opposite side of the limousine from Serahn who sat forwards on the passenger side, with his legs crossed and his fingers on his lips, thinking.

"I forbid you to lie to me, Mister Hornbuckle, do you understand?" Serahn opened. Hornbuckle nodded as Serahn appeared to be searching for his next question.

"You are a wizard are you not?" he asked, as the car accelerated into traffic.

"I am," he replied with a stone face. "Hogwarts Class of 1928."

"I'm sorry, what?" Serahn asked puzzled.

"I graduated from Hogwarts in 1928. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"There is a school?" Serahn said, mostly to himself, "And how many students were at this school?"

"There were around thirty per house in my day, with four houses. These days I hear it's over 300 per house with all the different years."

"This school still exists?"

"Oh, most definitely."

"Where is it located?"

"Impossible to say really, you cannot find it unless you are invited."

"And what do they teach you there?" Serahn opened his briefcase, pulling out a pen and a pad of paper. This was definitely conservation worthy of taking notes.

"A variety of subjects pertaining to all things magical. History of Magic, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Potions, and Defense against the Dark Arts are some of the subjects taught at Hogwarts School. Their seven years is packed with studies."

"Seven years?"

"Yes, students attend Hogwarts after they turn eleven and attend for seven years."

"What do the students do before they attend Hogwarts, for education?" Serahn paused for a minute and looked out the window.

"It depends on the parents, really. Some attend non-magical school, whereas others are taught the basics at home."

"So magic is passed down from parent to child? Much like hair color or facial features?"

"Yes, it often is, but there are exceptions." Hornbuckle answered honestly.

"Explain, please, Mr. Hornbuckle."

"There are rare exceptions where two magical parents can produce a non-magical child. The term for such a child is _squib. _Also, perhaps more common, is the birth of magical children from non-magical parents."

"How is this possible?"

"It has to do with genes, from what I understand. I am no scientist; my specialty is Transfiguration and Charms."

"Explain as best you can then, about genes."

"My friend Albus could explain better, but from what I know about genetics, is that a trait, such as blue eyes, or flat feet, can remain dormant for generations. Only when there is the right combination of dominant and recessive genes, mixed together in the right order, do you get the trait in question."

"So parents who are not magical, who produce a magical child, you are saying there was magic in their bloodline, and they were just unaware?"

"Yes, that is the theory. Magic has been around since the beginning of time, it is foolish to think, after thousands of years, that all humans don't have at least some magic in their blood. This theory drives the pure-blood elitists mental."

"Pure blood, what was that?" Serahn asked, looking up from his scribbling.

"Many of our oldest wizarding families hold an aristocratic view on the purity of their lineage, and it causes quite a problem socially speaking."

"So," Serahn began thinking aloud, "If everyone has magic in them, why doesn't everyone use magic?"

"It is similar to say, red hair for example. Your hair is brown, but you may carry the gene for red hair, it is just dormant. Nothing you can say or do, non-magically speaking, will make your hair turn red permanently and grow red from this point on. However, if you procreate with a woman who also has the red hair gene in her blood, your offspring could very well have red hair, even if every member of your family and hers do not. Magic is the same way, only when the right circumstances occur, does the magic present itself. The elitists of the magical world believe diluting our bloodlines is an abomination, although most educated wizards disagree with their views."

This information was more disheartening for Serahn than helpful. He wasn't sure if his own skills were something special, or just an innate part of being human. "I never attended any magical school, Mr. Hornbuckle, I discovered late in my life that I could do magic. Would you say that I am a wizard?"

"Most definitely. Magic is finite in this regard, you are either a wizard or you are not-there is no in between. Did you ever do anything, during an emotional outburst, you could not explain? Did you have any skills growing up that other children did not have? That's the magic."

"I can pick someone's pocket without them ever noticing, even the most secured pocketbooks. Also, I can make people not see me, as if they just look past me. To my knowledge, neither of my parents were magical, though I didn't really stick around long enough to ask them. How are magical children born from non-magical parents discovered?"

"There are spells and charms in place to identify magic in children. In Britain, a child who can do magic, will be visited before their eleventh birthday by a member of Hogwarts. Most often, my friend, Albus, visits the family and explains our world to them."

"What about in other countries?"

"I would assume the procedure is similar, but I am unaware of what they do specifically."

"Is it possible for a child to be magical and not be identified as such? To go through life without being noticed by your community?"

"Nothing is impossible, sir, but I believe that is quite unlikely. You are American, no? I am sure you were identified, their education system is as advanced as ours is."

This made Serahn incredibly nervous. He did not like the idea of anyone knowing who he was. "So if what are saying is true, Mr. Hornbuckle, then I was visited by a member of a magical school in America at some point."

"I believe that is quite possible, yes. Are you an orphan?"

"No, I was not."

"Can you ask your parents? Are they still alive?"

"No, they are not, but even if they were, there was no relationship to be had."

"Is it possible a wizard may have visited them, and they refused? Many families don't accept there is a magical world."

"If a family refused to educate their magical child in the magical world, what would happen to him? The child?"

"Nothing. While the child is underage, the choice remains with the parents. The trace would remain on the child, to monitor their magic."

"Trace?" Serahn gasped, sitting forward in his seat. He did not like the idea of being traced one bit. "What do you mean trace? You can trace magic?"

"Definitely! All children have a trace put on them, well on their wands, which ensures they abide by the rules of not using magic outside of school."

"How long does the trace last?"

"In Britain, until their seventeenth birthday, though I hear in America, children become adults at eighteen there. I have no idea if that applies to wizards as well."

"I did not have a wand until long after I turned eighteen, do you think I had a trace put on me?"

"It's hard to say, I have never asked Albus what happens to children who refuse to attend Hogwarts. Either way, the trace ends when the child comes of age."

"You said all magic is traceable."

"Yes, it is, but not like you are thinking. If someone was investigating a wizard, and have the know-how, yes, they could trace all the magic used. But these things take time, and it is exhaustive to follow such a trail. When investigating crimes, yes, it is used, but are wizards routinely followed and investigated through the magic they do? I would say not."

"So, if someone really wanted to, they could trace every spell I ever cast, which would lead back to me?"

"Again, yes, in theory, but you have to find the magic, in order to trace it. Take the gardens for example; I have no idea if you even used magic before you cursed me. No one would ever have any reason to look there for magic, and if they did, randomly, they would have no idea it came from you. If someone was investigating you, and they knew to look by the pond, yes, they could confirm it was your magic, but you cannot just snap your fingers and find out who cast what."

"Alright, so you believe it is possible for a child to make it to adulthood off the wizarding radar?"

"Radar?" Hornbuckle asked curiously.

"Uh, without being noticed."

"It is possible, unlikely, but possible."

"And upon turning eighteen?"

"If you don't break magical law, they would have no reason to follow you."

"What about non-magical law?"

"Wizards do not interfere in the affairs of Muggles."

"I have heard that word before, 'non-magical' folk?" Serahn watched as the old man nodded in agreement. This information confirmed there was still an entire wizard community out there that he could not see. He had thought, perhaps, that when Bellatrix died it meant that all of them died. Somehow he knew that was foolish.

"Tell me, have you ever heard of a witch, from about seven or eight years ago, going by the name Lestrange?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Hornbuckle gasped. "Yes, you would be hard pressed to find a wizard or witch alive who has not heard of Bellatrix, after what she did."

"What did she do?" Serahn sat forward curiously.

"She was a lead servant of the Dark Lord who was killed in 1981. In 1982 she tracked down two Aurors and tortured them into insanity with the Cruciatus Curse. Ghastly woman."

"I'm sorry, an Auror?"

"Dark wizard hunter, work for the Ministry of Magic tracking down fugitives."

"Was it the Longbottoms?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"She murdered them?" Serahn said leaning back into his seat and tilting his head back.

"No, just torture."

"Bellatrix was related to the Black family? Is that one of those pure-blood families you mentioned?"

"Yes, Bellatrix Black was her maiden name; she took the name Lestrange at her wedding. The Black family is one of the oldest and most elitist in our world. They drown themselves in the Dark Arts, make up the top tier of our aristocracy, and are notorious for their views on blood status.

"And who killed her?" Serahn asked, quickly plotting a course of revenge to the name Hornbuckle was about to mention.

"No one has killed her. She remains locked in a cell at Azkaban. Our wizard prison."

"What? Bellatrix lives?" he said, completely stunned.

"Yes, I believe so. I have not heard of her death for certain."

"When was she arrested?"

"I do not know, sometime after _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named _died, which was in October of 1981, I assume she was caught after she tortured the Longbottoms. A shame really, I taught both Alice and Frank, they were both exceedingly bright."

"You were a teacher? At Hogwarts?"

"Yes, I taught Defense Against the Dark Arts for over twenty years, though I preferred Transfiguration or Charms. Both positions were occupied at the time."

"Explain this to me then, please. I was under the Imperio Curse from Bellatrix when she was taken into custody, but now I am not. How is this possible? I doubt she would have released me."

"I doubt it too. I taught Bellatrix, and she is a most unpleasant witch. It's the Imperius Curse, not Imperio, that is just the spell itself, and presumably her wand was taken from her when she was captured. It's a simple charm to break any lasting curses on a confiscated wand."

Serahn pondered quickly just how many people he was currently controlling in one fashion or another, and hoped no one would ever use that charm on his wand. "Tell me about Azkaban."

"It is our prison for the worst wizards and witches in our society. You must do something horrible to be sent there."

"How do you make a place to hold a wizard that does not want to be kept?"

"I assume it's quite a challenge."

"Has anyone ever escaped?"

"No, definitely not."

"What about been broken out?" Serahn was so curious now he could barely sit still.

"Several have tried, I am sure, but no one has ever gotten close enough. That's the rumor anyway. The strongest magic protects that place; it would be suicide to attempt to free her. Azkaban is known for making its prisoners crazy, so after her time there she is most likely a mere shell of the woman you once knew."

Serahn smiled at the old man's assumption. He was not ready to dismiss the idea of rescuing her just yet, but for now he had other questions.

"Tell me about this friend of yours, Albus, the one who can explain more to me about my genes."

"Albus Dumbledore, he is the Headmaster at Hogwarts School."

"Could you arrange a meeting between him and me?"

"I could, yes."

"Is he a strong wizard?"

"They say there are none stronger, he could be our Minister if he so desired."

"None stronger," Serahn said, rethinking his plan. "Is he a clever wizard? Would he know I was controlling you?"

"Yes, most definitely."

"What would happen to me if I was discovered controlling you."

"The Imperius Curse is an Unforgivable Curse, you would be sent to Azkaban for life."

"Do you think Dumbledore could be placed under the Imperius Curse?"

"Probably not, he has a very strong mind, plus there is the whole problem with what would happen if you failed."

"Bad idea, huh?" Serahn laughed.

"He is an accomplished Occlumens, and probably the best dueler in Europe."

"Now, that is a problem. What is Occlumens?"

"Occlumency and Legilimency, the magical art of both shielding your mind for prying eyes, and entering other wizard's minds."

"So if I found myself around this wizard," Serahn interrupted.

"He would read you like a book, yes, you would have no secrets."

"Hmm," Serahn said, stroking his chin. "I wouldn't mind learning any of those skills. Perhaps you can teach me. What's the story with your pocket there, with all the stuff in it?"

"Oh, standard Storage Charm. Depending on the wizard, it can expand its size undetected between ten and one-thousand times normal."

"And how big is yours?"

"About a hundred times larger."

"Doesn't it get heavy carrying around all that extra weight?"

"No the charm makes everything inside weightless."

"Interesting." Serahn knew at once today was the second luckiest day of his life. Since he met Bellatrix, he had worked insanely hard to build his financial empire. Now it was time to explore a new business avenue. Organized crime, or at least smuggling. With this new storage charm, and Hornbuckle at his disposal, at last he would be able to learn some high level magic.

Edmond drove them all the way back to Serahn's estate near Kensington Gardens. Serahn continued to ask questions about the magical world, and without hesitation Hornbuckle answered him. As Serahn stepped out of the car, he leaned in to Edmond.

"Clear my schedule for the rest of the year. Cite an illness or family emergency, do not give details or accept any visitors, understand?"

Edmond nodded as Hornbuckle climbed out of the limousine. Serahn headed into the house. A smile on his face as if it were Christmas.


	6. Chapter 5: Devastation

Chapter 5  
**Devastation**

April, 2004

Ronald Weasley was the love of her life. Hermione knew this; she felt this, but now he was gone. It had been six weeks, and still they had not reconciled. In fact, she had only seen him once in those six weeks, and that was yesterday. It was a chance encounter at the Ministry of Magic, where she acted like a bumbling idiot.

She had been attempting to track down Kingsley Shacklebolt to discuss some plaguing Muggle intelligence in reference to the Muggle Minister. This took her to the same floor of the Ministry of the Auror Headquarters. She knew an encounter was possible, especially considering Kingsley was once an Auror, and there was a chance she might find him in their office.

Before she even made her way there, Ron and Harry came bursting out of a lift, with a prisoner restrained between them. She did not know who the captive was but both Ron and Harry were bruised and bloodied up from what appeared quite a good fight. Ron was laughing with Harry, both noticeably limping while leading the older wizard to an interrogation room inside Auror Headquarters.

It was Harry who saw Hermione first, and making eye contact with Ron, gestured in her direction. Ron stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing her. He looked at Harry with a nod, and Harry took the cue to take the prisoner the rest of the way alone. Harry smiled a sad smile at Hermione and disappeared down another corridor. This left Ron and Hermione alone.

He walked up to her slowly, attempting to adjust his hair, which seemed a little longer since she saw him last. As he approached, Hermione's chest tightened and her mind screamed of things to possibly say. She was desperate to not say something foolish, or something to upset him. For the first time in her life she was afraid to be herself around him, afraid he wouldn't like what he saw. This made her sick to her stomach, and she could feel many parts of her body begin to sweat.

"Hello, Hermione," Ron said in a very soft voice as he approached, stopping about an arms length away from her.

She couldn't breathe, and had no idea what to say to him. She missed him so much, she loved him so much. It was everything she could do to not start crying at the very sight of him. But that was the Hermione he didn't like. This conversation would be so much easier if she knew which was the Hermione he did like.

She smiled a fake smile, which was all she could muster.

"Who was that?" she asked, trying to be casual.

Ron looked over his shoulder at where Harry had just been and ran his fingers through his hair. Ron got an awkward look on his face as he looked back at her.

"Ah, right," he paused. "Well, see, I know you have a high clearance and all, but we really aren't supposed to talk about that kind of stuff." Ron's face changed immediately once the words were free of his lips, as if he too was desperate for the right things to say to her.

Hermione's heart broke inside for what seemed like the thousandth time. She said nothing.

"Let's just say he's notorious for torturing misbehaving house-elves and leave it there, shall we?" he said with a charming smile.

His compassion made her smile a faint smile, and her eyes caught his for the first time. They looked sad.

"Ronald, you're hurt," Hermione pointed to a few bleeding cuts on his neck and face, and immediately regretting mothering him.

"Oh, right," he replied, wiping some of the blood off his face. "Sorry, I must look a wreck, he was a little feistier than we expected." Ron seemed uncomfortable looking her in the eye and broke eye contact. "It's all part of the job, you know," he added quickly.

"Of course," she smiled at him, fighting every urge to scold him for battling unprepared. "Nothing you couldn't handle, I'm sure." This was completely out of character for her, but the smile she received once he heard it made her realize it was definitely the right thing to say. Her confidence swelled as she began to understand the man she loved so much.

It was perhaps not that he wanted her to change into someone she was not, but that he wanted to see another side. She wondered if what she had just said might not be the start of that.

Ron was smiling, slightly, staring at anything but her eyes. He too seemed to have felt a small victory in the conversation exchange. Hermione was bound and determined not to ruin this by opening her mouth.

Ron turned and looked towards the Auror Headquarters before looking back at her. "Hermione, I should really—"

"Yes, yes," she interrupted. "We both have work to do—go." She was smiling, but her heart was definitely not. She wanted him to gaff off work and talk to her, and she wanted to do the same. She wanted to ask him for dinner, to talk, since this had gone so well. She wanted to hug him, and kiss him. More than anything she wanted to tell him how much she loved him, but there was no way she could. It had been ages, he pointed out to her that night on the roof, since she told him she loved him. She wanted him to know, but Ron just smiled and turned to walk away.

"Ronald?" she belted out, causing him to look back. She took a deep breath before speaking again in a whisper. "It's good to see you Ron, its good to see you well." She closed her mouth and offered a gentle smile that couldn't have been faker.

"Aye, you too love. I mean, um, Hermione," Ron choked on the blunder and turned towards the corridor. With one fell swoop of fate, the conversation was ruined.

Standing as still as a statue, alone in the corridor, her heart exploded. Her face did not move; save the tears that ran down her face the instant his back was turned.

When Hermione returned to her flat, she told Ginny everything that happened at the Ministry earlier. Ginny was great, sitting there listening to her as they shared a bottle of wine. Ginny and Hermione had not been very close since the breakup, for obvious reasons. Ginny was loyal, like all the Weasleys, and like the Gryffindor she embodied so much. However, her loyalty was tested when her brother, her boyfriend and her best friend were at odds. Hermione did not expect things to go smoothly, and both Harry and Ginny told her on more than one occasion there were no choosing sides in a situation like this. Nevertheless, it was still Hermione who felt like she had lost everything and everyone. She was the one who now had no one.

Hermione went off for about an hour about her meeting with Ron. There were some smiles and plenty of tears. She was confused, yet confident, scared and hurt mixed with anger and vengeance. Once the wine was gone, and the fire almost out, the two girls decided to call it a night and go to bed.

The next morning, rather early, Hermione woke to a knock on her chamber door. Ginny entered, wearing an earth-toned robe and house slippers. She smiled as she sat at the foot of Hermione's bed. It was Saturday morning, and she was sure they both planned on having a lie in. Ginny had other plans. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small piece of parchment, holding it in her lap and looking at Hermione.

"I couldn't sleep last night," Ginny started. "After listening to you, I think it is time we talked. I know we talked last night, but now I think you are ready to hear my point in all of this." Hermione sat up in bed, pulling her out–of-control hair out of her face so she could see Ginny.

"When Ron left, I was devastated, Hermione. Devastated." Ginny already looked like she was going to cry. "After everything that had happened, with Voldemort, and Fred, and…" Ginny sobbed, "Tonks." Ginny pulled a few loose strands of her fringe out of her face. "Well, let's just say that I wasn't the only one who thought of us all as a family that day. I have loved Harry, I think, about as long as Ron has loved you." Ginny could see Hermione's eyes begin to swell and tear up. Once her composure returned, she continued.

"I cried for days and days when you two broke up. I thought my family was destroyed forever, because I just couldn't imagine a time when the four of us wouldn't be together. Which is funny really, because of all my brothers, Ron's the one I despised the most growing up. The other boys picked on me, but Ron was just mean. It wasn't until I opened the Chamber of Secrets; I realized how much he cared for me, as if no one in this world was allowed to pick on me but him. And I loved him for that.

"As time went on, and the four of us got over Voldemort, I realized there was something special about all of us. Something eternal. This brought me back to why on earth you two would break up."

Hermione gave a teary look of mortification, thinking Ginny was accusing her of having something to do with this.

"Hermione, I'm your friend, but I don't think it's my place to tell you what I think about you and my brother." She looked down at her lap, where the parchment still sat.

"This came for you by owl about a week after Ron left," Ginny paused, opening the letter and looking at it. "I knew you weren't ready for it when it arrived, so I have kept it hoping soon you would be."

Hermione sat up frantically, wondering if this note could be from Ron.

"It's a Portkey of sorts, in a metaphorical sense. About two weeks ago I used it, and traveled to meet who wrote it. It was the longest and hardest day of my life. Now, I think it is your turn to read it. I must warn you, you are not going to like what you are told, but if you are ready, it's yours."

Hermione looked at Ginny in amazement and curiosity. The look on Ginny's face was not that of any sort of humor or deceit. It was a look of cold fear and understanding. Hermione nodded, and Ginny handed her the note. She stood up and gracefully exited the room, closing the door behind her. Hermione looked down at the off-white parchment folded in half. She opened it, half expecting a howler or some sort of jinx to jump out at her:

_"It's time we talked, _

_woman to woman. _

_Arrive at the Burrow at your convenience._

_–Molly"_

Hermione's head shot back in bewilderment. As if Ginny's cryptic explanation didn't make sense before, now it really made no sense. Hermione jumped out of bed, and raced through the door only to find Ginny standing on the other side of it, her arms crossed and her face crosser. She gave Ginny a puzzled look.

"If I thought for a second you should hear any of this from me, Hermione. I would have told you myself. Get dressed, I sent an owl to mum, she is expecting you." Ginny turned and huffed off.

Hermione shut to the door and got dressed.

* * *

She arrived outside the Burrow about an hour later, Disapparating from her rooftop directly to the front walkway of the Weasley home. Hermione wore her favorite pair of faded blue jeans, sneakers and a striped hooded sweater. Her hair tied back out of her face at the neck. It seemed about nine-thirty in the morning, give or take. The sun was stretching high into the sky and the last of the morning cool was being cut out of the air like a knife.

Stepping towards the front door, she was not surprised to see Molly Weasley burst out, attacking her with a fierce hug.

"Hermione!" she yelled, wrapping her in a stiff embrace. Hermione hugged her back, feeling a bit nauseous at returning to this place after losing Ron. She smiled when they parted. "Come, come, inside, let me make you some tea."

Mrs. Weasley was always a fabulous host. She seemed to be made to nurture, even people outside her red-haired family. Hermione nodded and walked inside They took a seat at the same table she had sat at a thousand times for meals and conversations. Molly sat for a minute making small talk, with slight interruptions in the conversation to get up and check the stove.

"Would you like a little kick in your tea dear?" Molly asked, grabbing an amber bottle from behind a blue bin. "I have a bit of fire-whiskey here."

Hermione looked at her watch, knowing full well the clock on the wall wouldn't tell her the time, but merely the location of each Weasley.

"It isn't even ten yet, Molly," Hermione replied with a smile.

"Oh, pish-posh, Hermione. What have you got to do today? Nothing! Relax, have a drink with an old woman."

Hermione nodded and Mrs. Weasley handed her a cup already mixed. They sat for about twenty minutes making small talk. They discussed her work, and what Arthur was into in his post at the Ministry. They talked about Teddy Lupin, Luna, Neville, George and Angelina, Victoire, and Bill and Fleur. Molly spoke of Ginny's last Quidditch match, and picked Hermione's brain about her team's chances in the upcoming playoffs.

They had perhaps three cups of tea each, all with Molly's special additive. Molly mentioned a bit of lightheadedness and suggested they take a walk to get some air. The initial awkwardness or being at the Burrow without Ron was now gone, and she thanked both Molly and the whiskey for that.

They strolled towards the outskirts of the Weasley property, talking about this and that, nothing of real importance. Hermione motioned over to a downed tree for them to sit on. Once Molly situated herself next to her, Hermione pulled the parchment from her pocket and showed her.

Molly smiled. "Ah, I was wondering if you were ever going to get to that." Hermione smiled back, mentioning she had only just received it.

"I sent one to you, Ronald and Ginny after I heard, but instructed Ginny to give you yours only when you were ready. Crushed, I was, to hear of you and Ron, absolutely crushed."

Hermione looked away, not anticipating tears joining the conversation with Molly so quickly.

Molly fussed with the seams of her dress, giving Hermione a moment to collect herself before speaking.

"Of all the things I have done in this world, Hermione, there are only a few that stick out. One or two things bound to my soul for all eternity."

Hermione didn't know whether to interrupt or not, she chose silence as it seemed safest.

"The thing I will remember most, is that I have brought life. It is, perhaps, my greatest achievement, followed closely by my abilities as a mother. When I say mother, that includes you and Harry as well. Harry had no parents so mothering him was simple. But you, you have parents, so taking care of you was an exceptional challenge. I never meant to take the place of yours, but you definitely needed looking after in the magical world. I could protect you in ways your parents couldn't."

"And I love you for that, Molly," Hermione interrupted respectfully.

"Oh, that's sweet, dear," Molly smiled a polite smile, continuing to fuss with her gown. "Arthur and I loved you all like you were our own. With that love comes tough love, where we are sometimes forced to deny you happiness even when it breaks our hearts to do so. It started with the Order of the Phoenix; we all knew how much you wanted to be involved. Even with Sirius, rest his soul, overruling me in regards to Harry it was devastating to keep you all out of what you so desperately wanted. Arthur and I knew your day would come, and we knew one day you would return to us all."

"After You-Know-Who fell, it was Harry who came to us first," Molly added. Hermione looked puzzled, turning to face her. "Of course, he had that horrid summer, getting over everything. We all did, but as you remember Harry was a mess. He and Ginny bonded in way similar to how you and Ron did. I won't say it was unhealthy, but we knew in time your relationships would struggle. Arthur and I married under threat of Voldemort, and we had the same issues once he had gone. Issues we knew you four would experience, I was a bit surprised it was Harry who came first."

Hermione looked at Molly with a confused expression.

"Oh, there were plenty of get-togethers and family functions, but about a year ago I received a lovely letter by owl from Harry. He came to the Burrow and asked to speak with Arthur and me. Oh, we knew what he wanted, but Arthur insisted we act clueless. He asked for permission to marry Ginny, and that is when I could hold my tongue about Harry no longer."

Hermione's face turned from curiosity and horror, but Molly continued.

"I was forced to explain to him that he was no longer the Chosen One. He completed that task. Though Arthur and I were extremely pleased that he wanted to marry our only daughter, and he had enough respect to ask us for permission, there were still things that needed to be said. Arthur explained there was more to being a husband and a father than an impressive resume. We explained he needed to put the past behind him, and although it would always be with him, he needed to look to the future. He had to see his future with Ginny in it. Harry was most troubled by what I am sure felt like an attack, but a week later he returned to us, and asked for permission once again. This time, we were all smiles and hugs and of course, Arthur gave Harry his permission to marry our only daughter. It was a very happy day."

Hermione was beginning to see why Ginny wouldn't speak of this sort of meeting with Molly. So far it wasn't too terrible, but the tone Molly was setting made it clear things could possibly get much worse.

"Ronald was next to come. He's actually been coming to see us pretty regularly since." Hermione's heart ached at the mention of Ron's name. "But I will get to him in a minute, dear.

"Then there was Ginny, who came because she was torn between you, Harry and Ron. Arthur and I were forced to tell her to choose. She did choose and she learned once again life is not fair. Any choice for her meant she would sacrifice the other two. If she chose Ron, she would lose Harry and you. If she chose you, she would lose her brother and her future husband, and if she chose Harry, well you get the idea. It broke her heart, but that is not my point. The point is one by one my children have returned to me for council. Now, you are here, my second daughter." Hermione didn't really know how to take what Molly was saying; she began to wish there was a pot of Molly's special tea out there with them. Molly took in a deep breath and sighed.

"Did you think I had it in me to beat Bellatrix Lestrange when I pulled you three off of her at Hogwarts? Do you think I stood a chance against such an amazing witch as she?"

Hermione took a moment to appraise the look in Molly's eyes before dropping her head in shame and replying, "No, I did not."

"It's okay dear," Molly chimed in with a smile, lifting Hermione's chin. "I was perhaps the only one in the Great Hall who 'knew' I would win. I knew full well what I was doing when I called her out, and I knew full well what I was doing when I engaged her. Now, don't get me wrong, I was a pretty good dueler in my day, but not to the likes of Bellatrix. She was like Harry when I was at Hogwarts. She always seemed to know more about Defense Against the Dark Arts and dueling than anyone else in the school. Just like Harry during your time, everyone looked to her for knowledge. I was well aware of her skill and reputation when I attacked her, and yet I still knew I would win. Sure enough I did. Would you like to know why?" Hermione didn't speak.

"It was because she attacked my daughter, actually my daughters. She attacked Ginny, you and Luna. Now, I may not have been as fantastic a witch as Bellatrix, but I am a mother, and I protect my flock!" Molly's eyes began to tear, but Hermione didn't know what to say.

"Though the world has been a better place since I used the Killing Curse on her, I am the one who has to live with the fact that I, a mother, a giver of life, have now ended one. I knew at that very moment, I now lived in a world where I had taken a human life. Of course it was justified, but that doesn't mean that I got over it. It will haunt me for all eternity because I am a mother, and a mother knows.

"When you are children, you see parents as immortal and perfect. When you become a mother, Hermione, you will see every imperfection in yourself manifested in your children. Yet, these angels maintain the façade you are perfect. Behind closed doors, you see everything pertaining to your kids, you can see into their souls. On the darkest day of my life, the day I lost a child, my remaining children saw me kill Bellatrix Lestrange, something of which I am quite ashamed. Regardless of the circumstances, I never thought it was possible. Even as grown adults, they aren't to see me as human like that, not like that." Molly was crying now.

"I am not even sure I want children, Molly. I've never really thought about it, honestly." Hermione interrupted.

Molly did not comment on what Hermione said, instead she continued. "I see my children for who they are, not who I wished they were. Arthur and I have always seen them. Though I love my children equally, and I do very much, I know who and what they are and what they have always been. Bill, my first born, a fantastic student and an excellent husband, father and wizard, had almost no self-worth until the day he decided to talk to Fleur. Oh yes, skilled with a wand and his studies, but a coward until he met Fleur.

"Charlie, wonderful with magical creatures, will probably never marry. He is absentminded when it comes to anything but his work. Do you see where I am going? I see my children for who they are.

"Percy hated Arthur and me his whole life for his meager surroundings and upbringing. He was, perhaps, my only pure-blood child. He craves acceptance and belonging and until the day he dies he will constantly despise having been born a Weasley, though in light of recent events will never admit it. He is again part of the family, but a mother knows the truth.

"Fred and George," Molly reached inside the neckline of her dress and pulled out a necklace holding something presumably belonging to Fred and kissed it. "Oh, I never worried about those two. Yes, they were always gaffing off, and getting into all sorts of trouble. Let me tell you how many fits they got me into. In secret, I knew their magic was fantastic. When they poured themselves into their work, there was no wizard around who could match what they could do. Their marks at Hogwarts proved it. Minerva and I talked at length about the day they left school, bloody incredible display of magic it was. Hell, you were there; you saw when Alastor Moody died. Can you believe the nerve of those two? That was their gift. When Fred died, part of me died too, but he was a good boy and died fighting for his family, which included you and Harry, mind you.

"And Ginny, my baby." Hermione popped her head around at the omission of Ron. "Ginny was always the baby, and the only other girl in the house besides me. An amazing witch, I always knew she would be, but her strengths come from her father. She accepts everyone, and loves unconditionally. She is, if anything, brave. I used to sit and watch her fly around on the boys' broomsticks when she thought no one was looking. Oh, how I loved to watch her play Quidditch at Hogwarts." Hermione snapped around again. "Oh, yes, I was always there. Just because I didn't say hello didn't mean I wasn't there. She gave me hundreds of heart attacks, that girl, but her brothers were raised well, and I knew she was looked after.

"This brings us to Ron." Molly smiled, getting to her conclusion. "Ronald was, without a doubt, my squib, the one with the least amount of magical ability in the entire family." Molly didn't turn her head to address Hermione's look of shock and horror. "Oh yes, Arthur and I discussed not even sending him to Hogwarts. He had no talent and no drive to learn. As Arthur said, perhaps the luckiest day for our entire family was the day Ron met Harry Potter. That statement actually requires amending because you were there too. I never thought Ron was capable of half of what he has done in his short life. He was a worthless child to a witch, and I loved every ounce of him for that. Yes, a mother knows. My son gets in over his head, and hasn't the skill to get himself out of it. Not like Fred and George did. Ronald was my squib, until he met you, Hermione. Now, and because of you, he is my Auror. An Auror, and winner of an Order of Merlin-First Class! Can you believe it? There was only one other Order of Merlin in either the Weasley or Pruett families, and that was a Third Class. Now Ron has a First; Ginny a Second. Amazing!" Molly was beaming and wrapped her arms around Hermione like it was Christmas. "Oh, he did the work to get where he is, we shall never take that from him, but you, child, were his inspiration!"

Hermione kept her head down once Molly let loose her grasp of her.

"It has taken me five years to let go of what I thought my son was capable of. Five years to not look at him and see, well, someone less talented than he really is. He is an amazing Auror, and his skills are like nothing I have ever seen–in this family or anywhere else for that matter. When he left you, well, that was the ultimate proof to his maturity."

At last they had reached the part of this conversation Hermione was dreading, the part where Molly blamed her.

"It took a mother a long time to let you three go after the Horcruxes. It took me a long time to accept that Ron is very capable, and extremely knowledgeable. As parents, we searched and searched with Ron to find that one thing he could sink his heart into that would motivate him to excel in something, anything. He found that something in you, Hermione, you inspire Ron to be the greatest of us all. Now it is time for you to see that. Subconsciously, you forced Ron to become the man he was meant to be. Now you have to accept what he has become and honor him." Hermione still sat silently.

"Yes dear, it was you who drove him away. And yes, dear, his departure was all your fault." Hermione began to cry, hearing at last what she had been fearing, and what others had refused to say. "This is your fault, you are to blame, and now only you can fix it. He loves you, Hermione, as well he should! You are a fantastic witch, and surely should be running the Ministry one day. Don't get all caught up in my mother talk to think I am trying to tell you to sit at home and have babies. That is not my point, my gift is being a mother, but there is more to me than that. Your gifts may lie elsewhere dear, which does not mean you cannot be a fantastic mother. However, as I was once just as guilty, now it is you are just as wrong as I was. You have to see him for who he really is. Not who you think he should be, or who you want him to be, but who he really is. The three of you, Hermione, were destined to be together, with Ginny as a wonderful addition. You each pick up where the others leave off. You are the brain, Harry is the soul and Ron is the heart."

Hermione was sobbing quietly; her head slumped into her chest. "The rest falls to you, child. If you can find a way to see him for who he is, who I could not see either, there might be hope. Do nothing and, well, that direction is unpleasant. As we told Harry, I will now tell you the same thing. You are destined for greatness, the question is, do you see Ron in those dreams?"

The two ladies sat on the log outside the Burrow for a few more minutes. Hermione confided in Molly a few things, to which Molly was very warm and accepting. They walked back to the house having a long tearful goodbye before Hermione Apparated back to her flat.

Hermione had much to think about, and hoped that wasn't the last time she would ever be in the Burrow.


	7. Chapter 6: Harry's Fury

Chapter 6**  
Harry's Fury**

Ron woke up from another restless nights sleep in his room at Grimmould Place in London. It had been home for almost five years with his best mate, Harry Potter. It took him a few months to get used to not living in either The Borrow or at Hogwart's. In time, the place felt like home as Harry and he made it a little more their own.

Harry's house elf Kreacher was still around and he was getting very old. Hermione insisted Harry decrease the elf's workload to compensate for his age, to which Harry agreed but Kreacher did not.

Harry had won over Kreacher before the battle of Hogwart's, but there was still much left to do with Kreacher once they moved in. For one, Kreacher needed to learn not to call Hermione a "mud-blood." Ron often referred to "training" Kreacher, which infuriated Hermione. Kreacher had been possessed by Regulus's locket and it took time for his mind to settle down after the locket was destroyed. Kreacher rarely talked to himself anymore, and slowly began to accept his new master. They learned to ignore him, when he went off on those sorts of fits. Kreacher no longer slept in the broom cupboard in the kitchen; he now occupied the room with the entire Black family tree. Harry took the master bedroom on the top floor for his own, which had most recently been occupied by Sirius and Buckbeak. Ron took the second largest room, located on the second floor, the one which once held a Bogart.

Grimmould place was Ron and Harry's now. They loved it, and it was the castle of their Kingdom thought the girls still found it a tad ghastly. For the past three months, Ron had spent all of his free time there, and it'd been a horrible three months for him, dealing with leaving Hermione. It wasn't getting any better; he was still not getting over the loss.

Ron lay in bed on his stomach with his hand over his eyes trying to block out some light leaking in through the windows. He was so tired inside, but his body refused to calm down his mind enough to allow him peaceful sleep. It was well past ten on Sunday morning, yet he still was not awake.

Ron lay there thinking about Hermione, remembering another frustrating conversation from about a year before. Back then Ron came stumbling down the stairs of Hermione's flat calling her name. She was sitting at the kitchen table reading of all things, the London Times and not the Daily Prophet. Ron came bursting up, and tossed a piece of parchment at Hermione. She grabbed it, gave him a cross look and read it. Written in Latin were several letters forming a word, underneath in Ron's handwriting was the word "Vaksai" in English.

"What's this?" she asked annoyed.

"It's a jinx we got from Neville, supposed to help make plants grow. We're working on finding counter-curses and counter-jinks to block spells in mid-flight. The curse we are working on responds slightly to other spells in this family, but we can't seem to make it work, Harry and me."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "What does it do?" she asked hoping they weren't using the Cruciatus Curse again.

"It makes things grow, it's the biggest spell in the Zynjan family of growth charms," he responded, ignoring her disdain. "Can you check my translation please, when you have time?"

"Fine, whatever, I'll look it up when I can," she conceded.

"Thanks love, you're the best," Ron said, kissing her on the cheek and running back upstairs. Hermione never did get back to him on whether or not it was correct. If she'd have known they wanted to test it against the killing curse she surely would have killed him right there on the spot.

In and out of consciousness, Ron thought he heard to door to his room creek open. Soft footsteps of padded feet seemed to be echoing in his mind, yet he did not move. When he heard the deep rasp of Kreacher's voice at the foot of his bed, but was not startled.

"Master Weasley," Kreacher grunted, his head bowed.

"What is it noble house-elf of the Black family?" Ron said through the muffle of his pillow. Kreacher's ego required compliments after so many years of condescending treatment; this was Hermione's idea, and it made Kreacher so much more manageable.

"Master is too kind," Kreacher's head was still in a bow, as Ron pulled his face off his pillow and sat up facing Kreacher. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and yawned.

"Master, the portrait of the honorable Phineas Nigellus Black demands either you or Master Harry Potter make contact with him immediately. Master must forgive this intrusion, as Kreacher felt it was urgent." Ron looked at Kreacher, whose head was bowed and where he still wore the locket Harry gave him that once belonged to Regulus Black, Sirius's brother.

"It's okay Kreacher, you are permitted to interrupt me on matter's your wisdom deems appropriate," Ron said again, with extra compliment to keep Kreacher happy.

Phineas's portrait was now up on the third floor, which is where Hermione placed it after she took it for their horcrux quest. Ron stumbled up the stairs and entered the small storage room where Black's picture hung. Ron plopped himself down on a few stacked crates in front of the portrait, and with one last yawn addressed it.

"Oi, what do you need Headmaster?" Ron yawned, his eyes still not completely open.

"The painting of Albus is requesting contact with Hermione Granger immediately," Phineas said dryly. This perked up Ron to wide awake.

"What? Hermione? Are you sure?"

"Yes, Hermione Granger, Dumbledore instructs her to come to Hogwart's to contact him as his other frames are not accessible at the moment."

"What does he want, perhaps I can help?" Ron offered, but Phineas merely shook his head. Phineas stood up with an arrogant bow and exited the frame, most likely returning to his seat in the Headmistress's office at Hogwart's.

Ron was getting a bit angry, but he knew Harry was gonna fall off his rocker at the news Dumbledore contacted Hermione and not Harry.

After giving the news to the still sleeping Harry, Ron realized he miss-appreciated how much the news would upset him. His best friend dressed faster than he had ever seen, and headed off to the girls flat. For obvious reasons Ron stayed behind.

Harry arrived on the roof of Ginny and Hermione's flat about ten minutes after he sent a Patronis to warn them of his arrival. Ginny was waiting for him on the roof, wearing her house coat and slippers. She looked sleepy and annoyed. He walked up and gave her a warming hug and a kiss.

Harry moved Ginny inside, and as they descended the stairs, he could see Hermione sitting in the brown stuffed chair staring into the fireplace. She was sipping a steaming cup of either tea or cocoa, Harry couldn't be sure.

"So what's up?" Ginny asked making an exhausted plop onto the red couch.

"It's Hermione actually, why I am here," he said looking at her. "Care to tell me why the Painting of Professor Dumbledore wants you to get in touch with him?"

Hermione took a moment to respond, as if searching for what to say. "I contacted him about three weeks ago, on Minister Shacklebolt's order," Hermione said quite diplomatically. "He's still an excellent source of intelligence."

"Someone you are tracking?" he asked. "I am the wizard hunter, if you are chasing someone down, I need to know, that's my job!"

"I'm aware of that Harry, and trust me when I tell you this doesn't involve you at all. It's about me, and my work, not yours." She could tell Harry was furious.

Hermione chose not to engage Harry and excused herself to get dressed. When she came out of her room and grabbed her briefcase in an attempt to leave, Harry was blocking her path. "I am coming with you, Hermione."

"No, Harry this is private Ministry business, you cannot come." Hermione side stepped Harry to get past him at the stairs leading to the roof, but Harry quickly moved to counter. Their argument went on for a few more seconds before Ginny spoke up instructing Harry to let her pass. Reluctantly he did.

* * *

After arriving in the snow covered Hogs Meade, Hermione made her way up to the main campus of Hogwart's. There were a few students, mostly latter years, out enjoying the snow, but most seemed inside keeping warm. It was the time of year when everyone was just returning from the holiday break, which meant fifth years were in the crunch for OWL's, sixth years their NEWT's and the seventh years were cramming for exiting exams, preparing resumes and taking job interviews.

She entered the tall double wooden doors that lead to the main hall. She passed by the jars indicating the status of the houses. Hermione turned past the house jar's towards the Great Hall, making a deliberate attempt to avoid looking direct eye contact with a large marble plague. The one dedicated to those who died in the hall five years ago.

The Great Hall doors were open, and inside she could hear voices of students studying, overruled by one voice over all the rest. She turned the corner to see Hagrid sitting there laughing with some first years at the Ravenclaw table. She walked towards him and before she realized it, she embraced him with a massive hug that caused her eyes to tear up a bit.

"Bloody hell," Hagrid gasped at being hugged so fiercely from behind. "Who the, uh, HERMIONE!" Hagrid stood up quickly from the table and took Hermione with him off her feet. He too was a little teary, and pulled a giant spotted handkerchief from his pocket at batted his eyes.

"You look fantastic Hermione," Hagrid beamed pulling her into another hug.

"Thanks, Hagrid," she blushed. "I'd love to visit, but I'm looking for Professor McGonagall, have you seen her?"

Hagrid didn't speak but pointed towards the Gryffindor table, where she could see the Professor helping students. Hermione paid Hagrid her parting respects and waved to a few of the students near by. She had been gone so long; it wasn't likely she knew any of the students currently in attendance. Professor McGonagall spotted her as she approached and moved to close the distance between then.

"Hello, Hermione," McGonagall said with a surprising hug catching Hermione off guard.

"Hi, Headmistress." Hermione replied causing McGonagall to snort in laughter.

"I think you've earned the right to call me Minerva, Hermione."

"Yes, Headmistress, whatever you say." She smiled back.

"I am afraid I have previous commitments with my sixth years today, so I'll leave to my office alone. The password is the animal, on my desk your first day ever in my class, do you remember?"

"How can I forget, Headmistress?"

"I trust you remember the way?"

"Yes, Headmistress, I do," and with that Hermione excused herself and made her way to the Headmistresses office. Upon seeing the gargoyle, she spoke the words "Tabby Cat" and it opened for her. Hermione reached the outer door and let herself in. She looked around and saw all the portraits of past head masters. The office was newly decorated, much more to the style of McGonagall. As headmistress she was forced to be decidedly neutral pertaining to the houses, but there were unquestionably more items pertaining to Gryffindor than any other house. Hermione moved through the office to behind to the desk to find the picture of Professor Dumbledore, only when she arrived his portrait was not there.

She was surprised to see Severus Snape's portrait residing where she remembered Professor Dubledore's painting before. She hadn't realized the spot behind the desk was for the most recent headmaster. She looked up at Professor Snape, whose snake like eyes peered down at her.

Hermione turned and addressed a painting of Professor Dumbledore for the first time in a month, though this was the first time she spoke to him at Howart's. Seeing the man who was so instrumental in their successes was always hard, but she hoped he would be able to help her answer some burning questions.

"Hello, Hermione!" he bellowed with a laugh. "How have you been?"

"I've had better days, Professor." Hermione looked away quickly and changed the subject. "Have you been able to find out anything I asked you about last time?"

Dumbledore smiled and her abrupt, but polite subject change. "Yes, I have. It appears you were looking in the wrong direction, reference missing Death Eaters. Toya Tukston is believed to have been killed shortly after Voldermort killed Harry's parents."

"But the Auror department has no record of ever detaining him, or ever finding his wand. I'm certain he's still alive. He has to be the wizard who has been threatening the Muggle Prime Minister."

"No I don't think that's the case, Hermione. Phineas?" Dumbledore looked over to the painting on Phineas Nigellus Black, who perked up in his chair.

"My esteemed and noble relative Bellatrix Lestrange swears to have first hand knowledge of his death sometime after the Potter boy survived the Dark Lords first attack. She will not be more specific because she knows I will tell you, and she is especially tight lipped about the whereabouts of his wand."

Hermione gasped, "You are in contact with a portrait of Bellatrix?"

"Yes, we both are displayed with honor in the Malfoy Manor, though it took some time after Bellatrix was murdered, before a suitable portrait could be displayed."

Hermione let the murder comment slide about Bellatrix, instead looking to back to Dumbledore.

"Professor, I;m sure these threats are coming from a wizard. If not Tukston, than whom else could it be? All of Voldemort's second round of Death Eaters are in Azkaban with the exceptions of Luscious Malfoy who allegedly now a drunk, and Draco Malfoy who was given released for being barely of age. Everyone is accounted for."

"If everyone is accounted for, then I'm sure you have an alternate theory. Am I right in my assumption?" Dumbledore asked.

"The intelligence makes no sense. Trails appear and then go cold just as fast. On three separate occasions, magic was used as a small part in major heinous Muggle crimes. I can prove this, yet, as always the Ministry feels it's a Muggle affair and drops the issue. Now that so much time has passed since the investigation was dropped the magical trail is completely cold."

"How does that make you feel, being Muggleborn?"

"It's infuriating, Professor. I love both sides, and the thought that someone is playing on the textbook ignorance of Muggles and the deliberate and elitist ignorance of wizards drives me insane. Not to mention, it's really a scary thought."

"That, is a very plausible theory, Headmaster," said the portrait of Professor Snape, obviously eavesdropping."

"Indeed it is Severus. Indeed." Dumbledore smiled at Hermione. "Perhaps it would be wisest to eliminate all potential magical suspects. This course of action could produce your culprit, or prove your other theory. Most likely the former, seeing as to accomplish what you are suggesting would take significant dark magic."

"That's where I'm stuck, Professor. I'm pretty sure I'm right, but that's mostly based on instinct. If I am proven right, I would have no idea how to track a wizard like this."

"One thing at a time then. Start with known associates of the Dark Arts, and criminals. Wizards and witches who have both the means the skill. To truly find a comprehensive list of who's been captured and who's at large or missing you will perhaps need to look up one of your old classmates. Only Draco Malfoy would have this information."

Hermione winced at his name. "I don't understand Professor, what can Malfoy offer?"

"His knowledge is combined with that of his father; perhaps in talking to him you may be able to find out more information. I would suggest you also look to gain information about more pure-bloods, a more comprehensive list of disownments and an accurate family tree. Pure-blooded families are not happy about the current Ministry administration or their equality legislation. Perhaps you can find a rogue by exploring that angle too." 

"Yes, Professor," Hermione sighed at the thought of being around Draco again.

"There's one other thing. My life long friend, Jefferson Hornbuckle went missing about 12 years ago. I have spoken with his portrait, as he just recently passed, and he has very little memory of his life after Voldemort killed Harry's parents. His memoirs, which he left the Ministry to complete, stop suddenly in 1989. I'm not sure if this's connected, but in rare cases the Imperius curse used for long periods can cause permanent memory loss. If we have dark wizards no one is tracking and others under the Imperius Curse for years at a time, that means you potentially have a serious problem on your hands. You receive intelligence from the two ministers, where does that point?"

"On the Muggle side? At best, an American Muggle crime lord operating out of New York City in the states and out of half of Europe and the UK. His companies are involved, either directly or indirectly in most of the case-law I find questionable. Only, he's about as close to anything magical, as you are I are to professional Quittich."

"Granger," Professor Snape asked. "How's your Occlumency?"

"Um, fair to average, I guess." She answered, a little embarrassed.

"That's odd, Severus." Dumbledore said sarcastically to Professor Snape. "In six years of providing education to Miss Granger, did you ever see or hear of her doing anything that was fair to average?"

Snape shook his head. "If you're headed into the world of the Dark Arts, Occlumecy and Legilemens at an Outstanding NEWT level is commonplace. This includes Mr. Malfoy."

"Understood professor, I will begin immediately."

Dumbledore smiled at her. "Do me a favor and keep Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley out of the information loop until such time as it is life and death."

"No problems there?" Hermione snorted back.

"You two still aren't speaking?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows from inside his frame.

"One chance encounter in three months, and that was a disaster."

"Ah, pride is a tough thing to swallow Miss Granger. Harry Potter is no longer the boy who lived. Ronald Weasley is no longer just Harry Potter's friend, and you my dear are no longer their voice of caution and reason."

"Yes, well, he wants me to be something I am not."

"You're sure, have you asked him?"

"No, but what he asks, I'm not sure I can do."

Dumbledore smiled and nodded. "Perhaps he wants you to be who you were meant to be, not someone you are not."

"I'm not Molly Weasley, Professor."

"What is wrong with Molly Weasley, she is a fantastic witch."

"I am not as perfect as she, and my whole life does not center on creating and maintaining a family."

"Oh, is that all you think she is? You still have much to learn, Hermione."

Hermione smiled and took this point in the conversation as an excellent time to say her goodbyes and excuse herself. Pertaining to the threats on her boss, she knew what she needed to do now.

* * *

June 18, 1996

Serahn moved through his private marble office with squeaky shoes as another day of rain blanketed greater London. He walked through the giant double doors no key could open, past the black and white marble pillar that created a large circular meeting chamber. As he passed, torches lit themselves, casting a soft orange glow within the darkness. He enjoyed the lack of light in his private quarters, and savored the mood the dancing flames provided.

Crossing the circle of pillars, he reached four polished stone steps that led him up to his desk. Standing opposite to the side he would normally sit, he turned around files and paperwork so he could read them.

Reading nothing terribly interesting, he perused mostly business and stock reports of his various financial interests across the globe. He reached across the desk to turn the computer monitor around to face him; as the stock reports popped up his eyes drifted away slightly to his right causing him to smile. His instincts confirmed he was not alone.

"You might as well come forward," he said without looking up from the monitor. "I know you're there."

Who this mysterious person might be was a good question, but when he heard a deep cackle come from behind one of the marble pillars his heart froze inside his chest.

Drenched to the bone, covered in a tattered, hooded black cloak held in by arms tightly wrapping a slender frame, Bellatrix Lestrange walked into view.

Serahn's head snapped around to see her; his body following quickly. The index and middle finger of his right hand sliding up his cuffs to secure his wand. He smiled a look of pure shock and fear wondering if she was here to hug him or kill him. Bellatrix's eyes shifted slightly, noticing the movement. She continued to laugh.

"My lady Bellatrix," he forced from his lips with a gasp, bending slightly forward in a bow.

Bellatrix's eyes lit up slightly as she looked around the large room, admiring the accommodations. With careful steps she continued to advance on Serahn, who had worked his way down the steps to her level.

"Quite the lavish Muggle treasure's you have," she spoke coyly with a smile. "Though I think calling you a Muggle, now, is a bit of an insult. Don't you think? Doggie?"

Serahn did not answer.

"You are not a Muggle, like I once thought pretty-man. You are a half-blood; a mud-blood. A wizard some would say."

"Thank you, my lady," he replied respectfully.

"I hate mud-bloods!" she screamed, flipping off her saturated cloak to the floor and raising the wand she concealed beneath it.

Perhaps the smartest thing Serahn ever did in his entire life was not raise his wand when she raised hers. He stood still, holding his position of respect for his mistress. His master. The one who brought him everything he ever wanted.

Bellatrix loosened the arm holding her wand at him, standing just a few strides away from him. She began to laugh again, turning in circles to take in the wonder of Serahn's office.

"I received intelligence reports you had escaped the wizard prison, my lady. I am very happy to see you well."

"Yes, the Dark Lord rewards my loyalty as he always has," she snorted.

_So it was true. Voldemort was alive! _Serahn's reports were sketchy at best concerning the subject of Voldemort. Several wizards claimed he was back, but the magical newspaper _The Daily Prophet _denied it repeatedly.

"What brings you to me, my lady? I am, as always, your humble servant." Serahn knew how to warm someone up, and how to kiss the appropriate appendages when necessary.

Bellatrix smiled the same sickening smile Serahn remembered so vividly from the night in the alley so long ago. Aggressively she stepped forward, and raised her wand to his face.

"Wait!" he screamed before she could curse him.

Bellatrix halted he advance, obviously shocked by his tone.

"My lady, I serve you freely and willingly. The Imperius Curse you placed on me last time lifted the moment you were arrested," he negotiated minding carefully to not use the word 'captured.'

"I serve you still. If you need something from me, anything? You have but to command me, and I will make it so. Placing me under the Imperius curse greatly limits my effectiveness."

Bellatrix's eyes rolled slightly to the right as she contemplated his proposal.

"Very well," she said, lowering her wand. "The Dark Lord's plan's are in motion, and soon he will rule the entire wizarding world. All witches, wizards, magical creatures and Muggle's alike will bow to his power. I am here to ensure I am by his side when they do."

"What would you have me do, my lady?"

Bellatrix explained her paranoia and the upcoming war. She told Serahn about Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore and several others she and her fellow Death Eaters planned to kill. Much of what she told him was cryptic and vague, other parts however were surprisingly detailed considering she had not seen or spoken to him in over a decade.

She talked at great length about her cousin Sirius Black, whom she had just recently killed. Serahn insisted she stay in his estate, as it was a Muggle's estate, until the smoke cleared from her attack at the Ministry of Magic. The Dark Lord Voldemort commanded all of his Death Eaters to remain out of sight until he called for their return.

Bellatrix demanded a broom since she was unable to Apparate without being detected. Serahn arranged immediate fresh clothing for her, and offered his wing of his estate for her usage. She did not hesitate in accepting, or thank him for that matter.

Several days passed and he could tell Bellatrix was becoming rather anxious to return to her master. All her years in Azkaban surely did not help her deal with being cooped up in another prison of sorts.

The majority of the time they spent together was used to teach Serahn Occlumency, the art of keeping straying eyes out of your mind. As with most things magical, Serahn was a quick study. Once she explained the concept, no matter how quickly she shot him with the Legilimens charm he could always stop her. This made her very happy. He needed to protect his mind from prying wizards; otherwise all her efforts to preserve herself would be fruitless.

The Muggle newspapers continued to report ghastly crimes occurring all around the United Kingdom. Bellatrix seemed convinced they were Death Eaters acting on the will of her master. She grew increasingly agitated and ready to return to her world, and Serahn heard her many a night screaming from her room for Voldemort to contact her.

On what would later be seen a her last day with him, she demonstrated some of the darkest magic his eyes would ever see.

"Come here!" she demanded, holding out a flat palm expecting him to give her something. "Your wand! Now!"

Without question he handed over his twisted black oak and goblin blood-core wand. It may have once belonged to the Death Eater Toya Tukston, but it was his now. It was a part of him.

Bellatrix took it from him and turned her back walking a few steps away.

"Yes, yes. This will do. This will do, nicely," she laughed speaking to herself.

Serahn heard her mumble to herself, and when the torches in his private office began to flicker and dim he realized she was chanting some sort of spell.

The room went completely dark save a single light emanating from each of Bellatrix's eyes. Red plumes of illuminated smokes seeped from under her dress and swirled around her.

She began to yell her chant, in a language Serahn did not know. Turning around to face him, or perhaps he moved to see her face he watched as she touched the tip of his wand to the breast over her heart.

The ground began to shake in a low rumble at first before shattering the glass of every picture frame on the wall. Bellatrix let out a scream of pure pain as if every bone in her body was being crushed by a vice, one turn at a time.

She inched the wand slowly away from her chest, pulling with it a smudge of blackness casting it own light into the dim room. Her wand hand trembled, struggling to pull free causing her to heave with her other hand to. The struggle was immense; whatever she was pulling out of herself did not want to be freed.

Bellatrix's screams became deafening and with one final burst of effort and scream his wand snapped free from her chest giving birth to a misshapen sphere of total blackness.

She fell to her knees gasping for air. Serahn stepped forward in a panic to assist her only to be halted by a hand she held up in defiance. The blob she pulled from her chest lowered itself in a hover to the crouched beauty.

The light it cast pulsated in front of her face causing her to smile in victory. She whispered a few words directly to the blackness commanding it to move. Its size and mass fluctuated before oozing towards Serahn's wand Bellatrix held out in an open palm.

His wand absorbed every last drop it, and with a pop the blackness was gone. Bellatrix dropped the wand, doubling forward onto her hands and knees and vomited.

She heaved a few times before spitting the last of her sick from her mouth. Her cackles and laughter surprised Serahn who wasn't really sure what he just witnessed. He moved in closer to her as she looked up at him with a smile.

Her face was different now, her eyes sunken more into her skull, the circles around her eyes somehow darker. The pain she had just endured caused tears of bright red blood to streak her milky white cheeks. He noticed blood spilling from her ears.

She laughed louder at the look on his face as he knelt down beside her completely bewildered. Bellatrix ran her fingers through her own vomit, playing with it momentarily before smearing a good amount of her sick on Serahn's face with a laugh.

"Remember my portrait!" she commanded with a convulsion in her gut. "You will receive _The Prophet _by owl every day now. You will know if I die."

"Yes, my lady," he replied.

"You have to get the original! That's imperative doggie. I have shown you Diagon Alley, you may go anywhere in there but Olivander's shop. He recognizes every wand he has ever made. Do not go in there or you will be discovered."

Serahn bowed his mousey brown and gray streaked head acknowledging her orders.

"Get the portrait, I will do the rest. Do you understand? Mudblood! If I die, you must get it before my sister does."

"Yes, my lady, I will. I promise you."

Bellatrix was not herself for the remainder of her time in his home. Something had changed inside her, something darker; something more evil was now on her surface.

Holding the broom he bought her, she stood on a covered patio attached to Serahn's master bedroom. There were no good-byes, or anything resembling affection. She showed him a blackened tattoo on her forearm, which now throbbed calling her to return to her master.

She handed him his wand, which once it touched his palm, shot a cold jolt on anger through his entire body. Bellatrix looked at him with lust filled eyes, smiling as the effect of her essence in his wand consumed him. With a cackle of victory she laughed, mounted her broom, and vanished into the night.


	8. Chapter 7: Hermione and Draco's First Da

Chapter 7  
**Hermione and Draco's first date**

July 2004

Hermione was getting more and more frustrated at work. Though she would never admit it, the stresses of losing Ron were manifesting themselves everywhere. Her work was no different. Hermione was guilty on more than one occasion of screaming at one of her subordinates for no reason whatsoever. She seemed to draw stress in like a magnet. Even after four months of being alone she still didn't sleep well. As time went on, her level of hurt seemed to get worse. Oh, the hurt of him leaving her now was all but gone, but Ron attacking who she was, the type of person she was, eroded her self-esteem and confidence. Her magic hadn't suffered yet, but she was afraid it might.

She was not some poor helpless woman devastated by a man; she was someone who had her feelings trampled by the people she loved. Still mottling through what they said, her nights were tormented by doubt and second guessing. Ron's attacks hit so close to home because he was so close to her at the time. She owed it to herself to take a close look deep inside at who she really was; it was the only way to be thorough. One thing was for certain, she was now a very powerful witch, if Ronald expected her to become some submissive, sit on the couch and make him a sandwich sort of girl; he was likely to get one hell of a jinx shot at his back.

Hermione smiled at the thought of a hundred different nasty jinxes scrolling through her mind while she physically cleared security at her work. She had a lunch date a few streets away. One she was already late for.

There was no excitement about her meeting, for of all people she could possibly share a meal with, today it was Draco Malfoy. She rolled her eyes as his name crossed her mind. The infamous Draco Malfoy, the arch-nemesis of Harry Potter while they were at Hogwarts. Who, as a boy, put more hexes and jinxes on Hermione than she could recall. Draco was always arrogant and downright mean. He seemed to get a thrill out of being from better stock than everyone else. As a young man, he followed his father into the ranks of the Death Eaters, the dark army of Voldemort.

Of course, the final battle went another way than what Voldemort intended, leaving Draco, his father, and his mother, Narcissa, completely neutered of all power and prestige. Harry testified at the Ministry's Inquisitional Board, saying Draco's mother betrayed Voldemort in the final hour to ensure the safety of her son, and in turn saving Harry. The Ministry decided to not send Draco's father or Draco to Azkaban, opting instead to place Lucius under house arrest for life. Draco was released because he was barely of age, and Narcissa was allowed to go free. Their family name was ruined, Lucius was fired from the Ministry with extreme dishonor, and Draco was not permitted interviews for potential employment. Luckily for them, Hermione thought, they were still quite wealthy.

Hermione shuffled through pedestrians on the walkway as she headed towards a Muggle restaurant to meet Draco. It had taken her over a month to arrange a meeting with him. The hardest part was finding him. According to the Ministry, Draco was not employed anywhere, but Hermione didn't give up. Finally, one day she received an owl with a note from Draco.

They corresponded a few times by owl, and ultimately decided to meet for lunch to discuss what she wanted, away from the magical community. As Hermione approached the Muggle café, she removed her wand from the breast pocket of her suit coat. She thought for a moment then slid it, hilt first up her right sleeve. This still was Draco of all people; it wasn't completely out of the question that he might try something foolish. After all, there would be no harm in being prepared, even if she was ten times as strong as he.

On the thought of concealing her wand, she reached under her suit coat, behind her to her waist, where she kept her Muggle pistol and badge. There was no haughtiness about its location, clipped to her belt in the small of her back. Women were built different then men and clipping a sidearm to a woman's hip did nothing but ensure she would knock it on everything. She took the Muggle pistol and badge and dropped it into the handbag matching her suit.

Looking through the café windows she could see through the windows and spotted Draco's bright blonde hair as he sat at a table for two. Seeing him, after all this time sent her stomach into knots and made her heart beat fast inside her throat. She took one last deep breath for strength and opened the glass door.

A hostess greeted her immediately as Hermione pointed in Draco's direction implying she was meeting him. The hostess smiled politely as Hermione walked over to his table. As she approached, Draco stood in a sign of respect to a woman joining the table, which completely shocked her.

"Hello, Draco!" she said with a bright smile, but did not offer her hand to shake or imply she wanted any other sort of physical exchange. Draco stood, wearing his customary black suit coat, turtle necked shirt with black slacks and shoes. His features changed much in the same way Harry and Ron's did over the years. Their faces were chiseled, their cheek bones prominent, though cleanly shaven, Draco's blonde facial hair was invisible and appeared smooth. His chin was just a pointy as she remembered, and he wore dark sunglasses even though they were inside.

"Granger," he said with a nod. There was still Draco's famous arrogant tone in his voice, but it was much more subtle. He carried himself much more like an aristocrat now, and not just a spoiled little child. His hair was short and spiked, with longer bangs in the front. Though she would never admit this to anyone, he was just as handsome as ever. Not so much handsome in a way implying she was attracted to him, but he was a charming looking man.

Draco did not smile when they met, and after a second, Hermione took a seat followed respectfully by Draco. She looked down on the small round table to see an empty cocktail tumbler with a few square ice cubes in it. It was sitting on a circular cardboard coaster of some local brewery with two black cocktail straws next to the glass. Their waitress approached as they took their seats, asking Hermione's order. She responded ordering an iced coffee, as Draco raised his glass, clinking the ice inside implying he wanted another.

Hermione decided to be the first to speak. "How have you been Draco? It's been a long time. How is your family?"

Draco raised his glass in attempt to retrieve any remaining liquid but only managed ice. He sat the tumbler back on the coaster and wiped his lips with a napkin.

"Mother is still devastated at the loss of her sister, Granger," Draco said with a very subtle implication it might be Hermione's fault. Hermione's hands were on her lap with two fingers up her sleeve on her wand as she smiled politely. "Father is a full fledged lush. The Ministry confined him to our Manor and took forbade him a wand." Draco appeared to be studying her reaction closely from behind his dark glasses.

"I…. I am very sorry to hear that." Hermione dropped her head, fingering her wand. "What are you up to these days?" She was trying to be polite, but was beginning to regret meeting him.

"I am working in Diagon Alley as you know. Not much out there for a former Death Eater. My family's name is ruined forever, as we are now disgraces." His face remained stone cold as if searching her for a reaction. "I doubt you contacted me to catch up or relive old times, and I certainly don't think you are concerned with my family after all we did to you and your friends."

Hermione's eyes shot back up at him in shock. What Draco just said almost sounded like an apology. She concentrated on his face, trying to read the next move.

"No, perhaps not," she said politely. "I contacted you because I need help with something. Something I think you may be best suited to assist me with, if you are willing. The painting of Professor Dumbledore, and Professor Snape are the ones who suggested I talk to you."

Draco broke eye contact with her immediately at the mention of Dumbledore and looked away. Hermione mentioning the name had a very obvious and a very negative effect on Draco, who was apparently still upset by the ordeal.

Draco collected himself as their drinks arrived. It was then Hermione realized that Draco was drinking. He grabbed the glass and took a big gulp, again wiping his lips with a napkin.

"Is that whiskey, Draco?" Hermione asked softly.

"Scotch," he replied while crunching some ice. "Life is a little challenging for me these days, Granger. My name's disgraced—thanks to the Dark Lord, and because of my involvement, or lack thereof, my father has all but disowned me. This leaves me with absolutely nothing, except Scotch." He smiled almost daring Hermione to scold him.

Draco took off his sunglasses, revealing his eyes were extremely darkened and sunken into his skull. He wore charcoal bags under each eye well beyond his years. He had obviously been drinking for quite sometime. He leaned forward towards her, with a look of stone fury.

"Listen Granger, I will say this once and one time only, so listen!" Draco's voice was slightly elevated as he slid up his sleeve to expose a scarred forearm where presumably the dark mark was once branded into him. "I joined the Death Eaters for one reason, and one reason only. I joined because of you! And Harry fucking Potter! I had no desire for conquest, and I couldn't give two shits about what Voldemort wanted beyond Potter. Magic is a part of my life, but I have no bloody desire in any way to do anything fantastic with it. I just wanted to see you all suffer, because according to everything I knew, it was you and him who were the disgrace!"

Her wand was all the way out now, under the table. She tapped it with her index finger releasing a silencing charm as Draco's voice continued to climb. There were only about three other people in the café besides them, but he was still on the verge of making a scene.

"Draco, keep your voice down, please," Hermione pleaded.

"You don't understand," he said, leaning back in his chair and messing his hair. "I am trying to explain. To be born into my family, a family of pure bloods is to be better than everyone. To be born perfect. Purebloods are the last chastity of a diluted bloodline. It was our duty to preserve magic. Without us, in a hundred years our blood would be so washed out we would all be squibs. That is what we were, the saviors, it was our duty."

"Draco, Voldemort was a half-blood, as was Professor Snape and many others," she said in the calmest voice she could muster.

"Yes, we know that now, but we were told those were lies and propaganda from the Ministry to inspire dissention in our ranks. Voldemort was the Heir of Slytherin! This he proclaimed and we believed him. Why wouldn't we? With the kind of magic he could do. You are missing my point. You are thinking about what I knew, and I am telling you what we were. I 'know' such and such will win the World Cup next year. Just like I 'know' my father will drink himself to death. These things are about ninety percent certain. You see our pureblood fascism as some sort of conscious choice, when I am sitting here telling you it was not a choice, it was fact." Draco slammed his hands on the table with his last word. Hermione did not flinch.

"And now?" she asked softly.

"I hated you all so much, Granger. Pardon me, but especially you. The way I was raised, you were the abomination. When I asked my father how you could be so strong and so smart if you were…" he paused, as if trying to find a way around saying 'Muggleborn.' "Well, what you are. He beat me, and then offered an explanation rhyming with simple tricks and non-sense. As a twelve year old, you take statements from your parents on faith. I never asked again, and in turn never questioned it again. I was better than you, my blood was pure."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She sat there silently, holding her wand under the table refusing to feel sorry for Draco. However, for the first time in her life, she was beginning to understand him. Draco leaned back into his chair and continued.

"I began to realize something was not right when I was ordered to kill Dumbledore, a man who had never, ever done anything except treat me with respect and kindness. The Dark Lord commanded me, and my father ensured I would follow through. It was my mother who protected me when I told her I was not a killer. Deep down inside my shame tells me I could have killed you or Potter if ordered to, but when he called for me to kill Dumbledore my entire belief system shattered. I still hated you, and after all my hate you still saved me from the Room of Requirement. That was perhaps the final straw for me. I was not a killer, and I am still not a killer."

Draco paused before finishing with the most profound statement she had ever heard. "You cannot unlearn everything you believe in a single day, Granger. These things take time, and time is apparently all I have left." Draco finished the last of his drink and motioned to the waitress for another. Hermione had not even touched hers, refusing to take her hand off her wand.

"I… I never imagined things from your perspective Draco. It must have been horrible for you, but it shows what many people have seen Draco; that there is good inside you." Hermione wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say, but she was on the verge of being speechless after such an unexpected rant.

Draco's fourth drink arrived and he took another big sip. "Okay, now that we've covered that, what brings you to me, Granger?"

Hermione perked up, snapping out of the despair of his apparent pain. "Right," she said bubbly. "I am working in special projects for the Minister, and although I cannot directly fill you in on what we are looking for, there some concerns regarding a few of your former contacts." She had been practicing all day, how to be polite during this conversation and was about to find out if it was going to work.

"You mean Death Eaters," he added with a snarl.

"Yes, Death Eaters as well as perhaps some purebloods."

"What are you looking for?"

"Well, we aren't trying to imply this is sort of a Gestapo conspiracy, where we are tracking everyone, but I am attempting to respond to what I believe is a real threat to Ministry security. I am aware than any wizard can turn dark, but due diligence requires I check out anyone who has a past first."

"Are you investigating me, Granger?"

"No, Draco I am not. I am actually looking for a comprehensive list of Death Eaters who may still be at large. Not so much fugitives or the active players, as I know where they are. I am more interested in the 'unknowns' who worked from behind the scenes. Ones others might not know were involved."

"You are beginning to sound like Umbridge," Draco snorted with a laugh.

"I am serious, Draco. I am not forming some sort of witch-hunt, that isn't what I do. I gather intelligence, and then act upon it as it pertains to my extremely small scope of responsibility. I assure you, anything you tell me stays with me, and your name will be completely out of it."

"Now you are really sounding like Umbridge."

Hermione was getting frustrated. Her words were failing her. He was right. She did sound like Dolores Umbridge. Trying to be sweet and coax him into speaking.

Her mind clicked and she tried a different approach

"All right, asshole," she said with a laugh, slamming her wand on the table. "I am tasked with protection. I work directly for Minister Shacklebolt. We have been getting some shoddy intelligence about Muggles that reek of witchcraft and I believe we have someone out there no one is tracking. If you wouldn't mind, I would like to know if there is anyone we are missing."

Draco laughed at Hermione's aggressiveness and raised voice. "I don't even know why I am fucking with you, Granger. Old habit I guess," he said with a smile. "There are exactly two branded Death Eaters who are not dead or in Azkaban." Draco was holding two fingers up to add to the point. "One is my father, who's drunk eighty percent of the time. The other twenty percent of his life he is unconscious. He was no wand, and is confined to our Manor with the same level of magic seals and protects Hogwart's. Then there is his disgraced son, Draco. Me," he said with an arrogant smile that quickly turned to sadness. "Let's just say I know better than to find myself on the other side of a wand from you again."

Hermione pursed her lips in frustration, she was hoping for a good solid lead on someone. "What about any missing pure-bloods? Perhaps not so much a Death Eater, but someone who has left the family."

"My bloodline is simple," Draco said shaking his head. "My mother was one of three sisters all named for the brightest stars in the sky, Narcissa, Bellatrix and Andromeda. My mother married Father, and I am their only child. Father has no brothers. Bellatrix married Rodolphus Lestrange and were both killed before having children. Andromeda married the Tonks Muggle and had a daughter named Nymphadora, whom you knew as 'Tonks.' Ted Tonks and Nymphadora are dead, with Nymphadora giving birth to Theodore Lupin before she died. Mother's cousins were Sirius and Regulus Black, who are both dead. I am afraid I know very little of the other pure-bred families like the Weasleys or the Longbottoms. Everyone else I can surely take a look into, there just are not really any completely pure-bred families anymore. But if you are looking for missing wizards, I wouldn't just concentrate on the aristocracy, Granger."

"Why not?" she asked politely, sincerely appreciating Draco for not insulting her dear friend Tonks or her mother.

"Well, you're the walking talking answer to that one aren't you? You, Muggleborn, Harry Potter, whose mother was Muggleborn, all accomplished."

Hermione smiled at what passed as compliment coming from Draco. She took in a deep breath through her nose as if searching for any other questions for him. Hermione continued for about another ten minutes asking about different relatives she knew of, trying to find if there were any lost or illegitimate children or members banished from the family for one reason or another. She believed Draco to be telling her the truth. He did have very little knowledge outside his family, because they further you got away from his mother and her sisters, the faster the blood lines became tainted.

"May I ask another rather odd question?" To which, Draco nodded. "Is it true you have a portrait of your Aunt Bellatrix displayed in your home?"

Draco partially choked on the ice he was chewing. He set the tumbler down on the table as the waitress brought him yet another drink.

"Yes, it is true. Though I wish someone would just set it on fire. She's always laughing, and screaming insults at people who pass by. She screams at Father and me for being failures, and brags at length about all the things she has done to hurt people. It gets a tad old."

"You are aware Harry has a picture of Phineas Black in his home, right?" Draco nodded to her from over the glass at his lips. "It mentioned some issues involving Bellatrix's portrait a few years ago. Was that what he was talking about, that she is belligerent?"

"No, the original Bellatrix picture was stolen from the portrait studio in Diagon Alley before mum was able to pick it up. Its artist was most embarrassed and contracted the replacement for free. Bellatrix's portrait refuses to say who has it. Nevertheless, Mother moved the one we have out of major traffic areas in the Manor just in case someone is spying. It now hangs in an upstairs room next Black's. You can hear those two old nutters going at it just about every night. Why do you ask?"

"Don't know, really," she confessed. "Something just seemed odd about the way Phineas mentioned it, is all." Hermione looked down at her watch and realized the time had flown by, she sighed. "Draco, it has been lovely to see you again," she said with a pinch of truth. "I need to return to my work, I appreciate everything you have told me today."

Draco stood with a slight wobble as Hermione stood to leave. "Quick odd question for you then, Granger."

"Okay?" she answered nervously.

"Any chance of you and Weasley, um, reconciling?"

Hermione was stunned by his question and almost offended. If she had not just pried into every aspect of his life, she surely would have ignored him.

"After four months?" she sighed. "One conversation? The odds are low."

Draco's face seemed to scowl a bit when she spoke and he lowered his head a fraction of an inch. "I am very sorry to hear that, Hermione." He said, using her first name for the first time in her memory.

"Thank you, Draco."

"Remember what I said. You cannot unlearn all that you know in one day. It takes time, but it's possible."

Hermione smiled trying desperately to leave.

"If you need any more information, Granger. You know how to contact me. If this is as serious as your face implies, I could be persuaded to get involved, for a ridiculous fee."

"Is that how you fancy yourself now, Draco? A mercenary?"

"More of someone incredibly bored."

"I don't know about bored, Draco, who's this blonde you've been seeing so much of?" Hermione's tone was half playful, half inquisitive. She really was curious.

"Granger?" Draco sighed, breaking eye contact. "Leave her out of this. She knows nothing, has no idea…what…she has no…"

"No idea about you then? From five years ago?"

"None, and frankly, let's keep it that way."

"Your secret is safe with me, and in turn I hope you will keep our meeting to yourself." Draco smiled an acknowledgement as Hermione too smiled again and fussed with her bag. They said their goodbyes as she headed back to work. The meeting wasn't altogether fruitless as it appeared she may have started down the road of repairing things with Malfoy. They agreed to continue communicating by owl.

She still had no information on who was threatening the Muggle Minister. Perhaps her instincts were wrong, perhaps it wasn't a wizard. If it wasn't, her department had no business investigating.

Two weeks later, Draco contacted her by owl, approaching her with an idea. One of his connections inside his family gave him a subtle lead. Hermione met Draco for just over ten minutes. He discussed his information with her, and suggested a reconnaissance mission and possibly an undercover one as well.

Hermione thought about his offer for a few days, before contacting him and giving him the all clear to proceed with the information gathering. She denied the undercover work, as she could not justify it. She cautioned him repeatedly about his level of involvement and reinforced he was not under the employ or the protection of the Ministry.

Draco was extremely confident, and seemed to thrive on mercenary work. He acted disappointed when Hermione said she would not be joining him, as she was soon headed out of town for an extended trip.

Draco accepted her offer, and moved on without help, investigating a worthless witch, who was somehow related to him distantly. Recently, she left her post at the Ministry unannounced, though her mother felt she was doing quite well in some new, unknown position.

Hermione assured him she would investigate in due time.


	9. Chapter 8: Serahn's Checkmate

Chapter 8  
**Serahn's Checkmate**

August 2004

Serahn moved down the final flight of stairs leading to a dungeon style basement. Down a long black corridor stood two large golden doors with a giant circular combination lock in its center. The hallway was made of polished black marble, with torches lining either side of the corridor at even intervals.

As Serahn approached the golden doors, he extended his wand and tapped the lock. It spun to the left and right with several clicks before stopping on the number thirteen. Serahn motioned with his free hand simultaneously moving a hand crank on the doors to release the final latch with a loud metallic thud.

He entered the circular room, wearing a solid black shirt and slacks. Its floors were refined silver marble with black cylindrical columns on either side. Passing each column he could see several people standing between them. Some were Muggles and some were wizards; all obeyed his command; their loyalty proven.

Serahn approached the end of the room, where on a slight platform stood Edmond and another man next to a veil of black velvet. Edmond was still locked into the Imperius Curse, the other man was not. There was no reason to be; he was loyal to their cause without trickery.

Serahn motioned to Edmond with his hand and in response his driver released the velvet, exposing a gigantic gold frame as the fabric slid to the floor. Serahn took a knee and all the other men bowed to the blank canvas.

"What is thy bidding, my mistress?" Serahn said, his forehead nearly touching the floor.

At once the portrait frame made a noise and a voice could be heard of in the distance, following by a familiar cackle. "Shut up, you Muggle loving bitch!" was heard as Bellatrix Lestrange appeared in the portrait taking a seat in its center. She looked around at all the men standing before her and started in with her sick sexual laugh of delight.

"Rise you filthy Muggles. Rise Serahn!" Serahn stood and made eye contact with his mistress; his head slightly bowed. "What is your report, piss blood?"

"Everything is in order; we await only your command," he said, answering on behalf of his minions.

"The Mudblood Granger?"

"A plan is in motion; no magic can stop our attack. I await merely the order, my lady." The man next to Edmond spoke confidently as he stepped forward to address the frame. "Intelligence changes too quickly for a timeline, I'll let you know when the opportunity presents itself." With a half bow, the wizard returned to his post. Bellatrix watched him turn before looking back to Serahn.

"The Weasley Bitch Child?" Bellatrix asked without even commenting on the previous item in her list.

"An easy target; completely exposed." Another wizard spoke, responding to her inquiries about his target. "Her fiancé is too pre-occupied with his own profession. I doubt there is any suspicion we are tracking her. We can hit her anywhere, but I suggest away from the Quidditch pitch as there are so many witnesses to deal with."

"The Lovegood wretch?"

"Completely vulnerable as well, her skills no stronger than your last meeting."

"Potter?"

"An Auror now," Serahn answered for this target, "So a formidable challenge, as is the youngest Weasley boy. The best two we have will attempt to assassinate them in their sleep. If a battle happens, it will be evenly matched. Once separated, we will own them."

"Longbottom?"

"Also unprotected."

Bellatrix laughed even louder.

"Longbottom doesn't get the Killing Curse. It's the Cruciatus for him until his mind explodes. Then let him live. I want him brought here so I can watch!"

"Understood, my lady."

"What is the timeline? How long does your stupid doggy ass require to finish my demands?"

"It all starts with Granger. You have but to command. If we are lucky she will be dead in minutes then we can move on to the others. If we are really lucky she will call for the other targets' assistance which will lead them into a slaughter. They will be no match for our skill."

"For the first phase take yourself and the two best into combat. The filthy Mudblood scum bitch will probably be fairly strong now. Run her over like a plague of hatred. If it gets to be too much, you use your Muggle to bring her down slowly and painfully. I want her to suffer! The other animals will gather around their wounded and make themselves easy targets for you."

"You wish me to expose myself, my mistress?" Serahn asked cautiously.

Bellatrix screamed a long string of curses, instructing Serahn she wanted him in command of his troops, therefore in the battle. Serahn swallowed hard, wondering just how long it had been since his hands were dirty.

"Have you done as I have instructed? You doggy, initiate the ambush. Do not set a time. No one knows when or where except you! You tell them, moments before, when to strike. If no one knows, no one can betray."

"It is understood, my lady."

"I want the Weasley Bitch Mother to suffer, and lose everyone she ever loved! Strip this world of her dear seed, as she tore me from my master. Once there is nothing left, then I will show her true pain, and true suffering, ha!" Bellatrix cackled again as she stood up in her frame. "At last my family will regain its honor. Even from my grave, I'm the one who has to do everything. Now, I return to my bitch traitor sister or she will become suspicious. Do not disturb me until you are all covered in all Weasley blood. You understand me, filthy Muggle bitches? Once this first lot is in the ground, well will move on the rest of her children."

Serahn bowed on behalf of everyone. He flicked his wand and launched the black velvet veil over the frame as he could see Bellatrix leaving for her other home. Now all they had to do was wait.

* * *

The next few days seemed to fly by for Hermione. More meetings and preparations for the minister's trip meant more and more headache for her. She scrolled through her mind's list of things she still had left to do. One by one, checking off each one mentally as it was completed. She made arrangements with Ginny to look after Crookshanks, her cat. She spoke with her parents by phone, wishing her mother a happy birthday and apologizing in advance for missing it next week. She talked with Molly Weasley a few more times about things, not all of which pertained to Ron. All that remained was one final item on her list before she would dissapparate to London Heathrow Airport.

She was standing outside Number twelve, Grimmald Place holding her breath. It was a long tradition of the executive members of Dumbledore's Army not to keep everyone out of the loop if one member was onto something. Regardless of how foolish. She knew Harry and Ron kept each other apprised of their separate actions, minding, of course, levels of classification. This had been Ginny's idea several years ago. To prevent a repeat of what could have happened when she and Hermione found Rodavanovic. Had they both been killed or injured, no one would have known where to look.

Traditionally, Hermione confided in Ginny her more classified assignments. Sometimes she would even inform Neville, just to keep him feeling like he was in the loop since he did not live or work anywhere near them anymore. Neville and Luna were still pretty close, so she was sure the two of them confided in each other. Hermione mentioned a small bit to Ginny, just to keep her happy. In all fairness, Ginny was just three months from her wedding, and honestly had more important things to worry about.

Hermione's briefing needed to be given to Ron. As much as it would rip her innards to shreds, in her heart it felt like the right thing to do. When they were still a couple, Hermione wouldn't dare tell Ron anything. She felt then, and still felt now, that he wasn't mature enough to handle such a responsibility. However, all of her conversations with Ginny and Molly reeked of her needing to give him a chance to prove his quality.

Hermione laughed at that thought. She knew his quality; it was genuine. Why, then, could she not get it past herself to trust him? Her information was hardly anything special, yet she still had conflict in her gut. Half of her was screaming to not trust him; the other half scolding her for listening to the first half. Trust.

Trust was a poor choice of words; she knew he would never betray her. That was not the trust she was thinking about. Perhaps 'responsibility' was better. She questioned Ronald's responsibility in part, and in part she didn't question it. Thus—her conflict.

Nevertheless, she stood outside his home on Grimould Place, trying to find the nerve. After ten minutes, she had all the nerve she was going to get; with three loud raps on the door there was no longer an opportunity to abort.

It seemed to take ages for someone to answer, and to Hermione's relief it was Harry who opened the door with Kreacher right behind him. She smiled a plastic greeting.

"Hello Harry!" she added warmly, "and hello Kreacher." The house-elf bowed but did not speak. He had not been able to find a suitable title for her since dropping Mudblood from her name.

Harry smiled and greeted her with a hug. He motioned for her into the entry way, where he shut the door behind her.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

Hermione took a deep breath and explained she needed to speak with Ron for just a moment. Harry turned and whistled up the staircase shouting for Ron. Within a few heartbeats Hermione could hear his customary heavy footsteps getting louder.

And then there he was. Standing at the top of the stair case; his face broadcasting the exact feeling she had inside her stomach. Ron descended the stairs moving into the entrance way. Harry made an odd face and excused himself from an already awkward moment.

"Hey, Hermione," Ron let out with a crack of unsteadiness. "What's up?"

"Would you take walk with me please?" she asked politely, without looking at him. "I've got a couple of things I want to talk to you about."

Ron's face lit up, "Sure! Let me get my coat."

"It's a warm night Ronald, you won't need it." Hermione regretted speaking immediately, but it was too late. "What I have to say won't take long."

Ron seemed frozen in his tracks for a moment, and she couldn't see his face. He snapped out of whatever he was thinking. They stepped outside onto the front porch and began to walk down the sidewalk. Ron moved himself to Hermione's right side, standing between her and the street. Hermione smiled, she had never noticed him do that before; which normally would mean he hadn't done it before. Now, Hermione wasn't so sure if he hadn't or that she just hadn't noticed.

"So what's up?" he blurted out, breaking the silence of their footsteps.

Hermione took a moment to collect her thoughts and then began speaking softly. "I am headed on a long trip with the minister," she opened. "As it stands now, we should be out and about for three weeks or more."

Ron nodded, but politely did not interrupt her.

"We will be in the states first, then heading off to other locations as the minister visits his troops around the globe."

Hermione paused, perhaps to give him a chance to speak, but he did not. He kept walking beside, her appearing to survey the surroundings around them. '_Always the Auror'_ she thought. '_Always on guard_.' She smiled briefly before catching herself and straightening her expression.

"Some of the places we are going are pretty nasty. I know you don't pay a lot of attention to the Muggles, but there's a lot going on in the world at the moment. There's a strong dislike for westerners, especially where we are going."

"I'm sure you and your teams are quite prepared, Hermione. You wouldn't have it any other way, would you?" Ron laughed.

"Yes, we're prepared. However, if anything should happen—"

"Oh, Hermione! Give yourself some credit, nothing's gonna happen," he belted, chastising her for being negative.

"I know nothing's gonna to happen, but Ginny made us swear we would not keep plans to ourselves anymore. So that's what I am trying to do; tell you what I have planned in case of an emergency. Christ Ron!" Hermione stopped walking and was facing him, rightfully infuriated.

Ron was obviously caught off guard, "Thought you told Ginny this stuff."

"Well, I would like to tell you, if that's okay?"

"Hermione, I apologize. I misunderstood," Ron conceded in a tone more sincere than she could ever remember.

It took a few moments for Hermione to continue. She forced herself to calm down and relax. "For the majority of the minister's security, I'm not involved. In the event of a security breach, I'm to let his commando units escort him to safety."

Ron placed his hands in his pockets and looked at her intently; giving the impression he was paying extremely close attention to the details she provided him.

"In the rare event magic may be involved, I will broadcast a codeword into the Muggle communications unit I carry, that will both activate the rest of my team and bring the Auror's on-call from the ministry." Ron was kind enough not to ask for the word itself causing Hermione to smile.

"If at any time, I feel the minister's capture, injury or death is eminent, I'm to Disapparate with him directly to the plane where…" Hermione paused looking for the right words. "Where a significant military force awaits to evacuate him further."

"Bloody fantastic!" Ron interrupted with an excited look on his face. "That plan's got your name all over it." Hermione smiled a sincere smile for once; he truly did seem excited about the plan.

"That's if we are overseas. If locally, I will Disapparate to an undisclosed location with the minister where a Portkey is waiting. If I use said Portkey, there's an additional charm on it that will send you, Harry and Ginny my Patronus. I tell this to you, and you alone, if send a colored Patronus, it's because of the minister." Ron's face was now aglow with amazement.

"I will Portkey to locations with additional Portkeys, bouncing around until finally I end up at the Burrow, out in the woods by where we used to have picnics. Do you remember, by the tree stump?"

Ron nodded, seemingly unaffected by the mention of one of their past romantic locations.

"Tactically speaking, I think it's the best place for a fight. What I remember of your battlefield control training, if I control the high ground and eliminate the possibility of apparition, then that's about as good as I can get, right?"

Ron nodded.

"No one will be able to track my random Portkey movements, which is why I am telling you where I will end up. If this happens, bring the DA and any Auror you can muster quickly and be ready for a war!" Her voice was almost a whisper but with a grave tone.

"Hermione?" he asked quietly. "Do you think something's up?"

"I honestly don't know, Ronald. I've been over the intelligence more times than I can count, and it just points nowhere. But there is such an air of randomness; it makes me consider an elaborate deception. It's maddening. You know how I am with logic, and although I can't prove there's a threat, I absolutely cannot prove there's not. The intelligence alone made me upgrade our security status two full levels."

"What's your plan if you aren't able to get the Muggle minister out?"

"I have a codeword for magical-ineffectiveness. Once I use that, my team meets up at a predetermined location, where we'll probably all be fired," Hermione added with a laugh.

"I've moved all of my intelligence into my trunk from Hogwart's which is under my bed. It's got a pretty good charm on it Ronald; you'll probably be the only one who can open it." She threw in the last bit as a free compliment; he couldn't hide the way it made him feel. "Please only go in there if you need to as there's personal stuff in there too."

Ron nodded, looking at her with the smile she missed kissing more than anything.

"You'll not like this one bit, but here goes. I've contracted Draco Malfoy, privately, to work for me as a sort of advanced scout."

Ron gasped, and the kissable look on his face vanished being replaced by one of complete horror.

"I ask that you give him a chance, should he seek you out. I am not saying that all is forgotten, or that I trust him, because those would be lies. However, he has taken some significant risks to accomplish the things I have asked of him. He appears to have some good intentions inside him somewhere. The contingency if I am unavailable, is you."

"But Hermione, Draco Malfoy?"

"I know Ron. Just promise me, if he comes looking for me while I am away, you will see him. He doesn't need to tell you anything, nor do you need to ask him anything. Just take what he has and send me a Patronus, or have Harry reach me by phone, and then I will contact you. Do you understand?"

She could tell he hated having to accept her demands.

"That's really it. Do you have any questions?"

"Not really," he shrugged. "You're going away with the minister. If the shit hits the fan, you will meet the Auror's at the Burrow. I am to get every Auror and be ready for a fight, and wait for you to get yet another Order of Merlin."

"Yes, that's it," she laughed, he always could make light of any situation.

Ron asked a few more questions about Draco, and playfully tried to pry more information about any threats the minister might be facing. The conversation went really well, considering she was already late, and needed to leave. At times it even appeared Ron was flirting with her ever so slightly. This made her feel good inside.

She attempted to leave several times, but he kept talking to her. Asking about her trip and more details concerning her escape route. She did her best to keep him from getting upset, but was in no position to compromise any more security than she already had.

Finally, the conversation seemed to reach its end and they said their goodbyes. With one burst of bravery Hermione spoke one last time.

"Ronald?" she asked as he turned to walk away. "When I get back, would you like to have dinner with me? At your convenience of course. I'd be happy to share more details about this trip once it's over. Besides it'd be nice to catch up, I think." Before she realized it, her words were out there and there was no way she could take them back.

Ron stopped dead in his tracks turning around to face her. His lips were pursed and his head bounced slightly front to back as he stared at the sky for what seemed like an eternity.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Think I would."

Hermione blushed as if she was twelve again and looked away. The voice in her head screaming to not dare utter another word. She nodded at him with a smile watching him turn and head back to his home.

_Victory! _she screamed inside her head.

Still smiling, she looked at her watch and felt the smile ripped from her face. She rolled her eyes, cursing and slipped her hand into her pocket. With a whoosh, a crack and swirling darkness her feet slammed into the pavement. Her eyes focused as she stepped out of a dark room. There in its hanger was the contracted Concorde aircraft, already loading passengers for the minister's trip.

Standing guard at the door to the room she just appeared in was her partner, Jonas. He looked at her as she stepped through the door and handed her, her Muggle suitcase. He didn't say a word to her, he just smiled.


	10. Chapter 9: Hermione and the Minister

Chapter 9

Hermione and the Minister

The minister's trip to the states went along fairly well considering the amount of stops he scheduled. His aides were able to keep him moderately close to schedule, and Hermione was excited to see several new American cities she had not seen before. There was even a memorable summer's night where the Minister took in a professional baseball game in the northern yank city of Chicago. Hermione was familiar with the game of baseball, being raised a Muggle, but had never seen a game played at any level.

It was all quite interesting, as she a Jonas had a ball trying to figure out the rules. It was far less exciting than Quittich or any Muggle European sports, but the American spectators enjoyed it, which in turn made Hermione and Jonas enjoy themselves. The crowd had their own unique traditions Hermione found intriguing. At the end of the night she relished the riot she'd had and seemed to sleep rather well.

She was sleeping quite sound these days, and her face seemed to smile a lot more. Her conversation with Ron before she left brightened her spirits. It was by no means a resolution to their problems, but it was a start. She found herself daydreaming quite frequently about their unscheduled dinner together upon her return to London.

Ah, her return to London, that explained the daydreams. The minister wished to change aircraft once they departed the states. Opting into a smaller BAE 146 Queens Flight which he used to travel on shorter trips. Tomorrow afternoon, they were due in Gibraltar on the southern coast of Spain, and thanks to excellent schedule keeping by the minister's aides it meant a night in their own beds before heading back out.

Hermione knew she wouldn't see Ron, but for an hour she may get to see Ginny and perhaps Harry. The Concorde was on the ground at Heathrow taxiing towards the hanger where a short convoy of cruisers awaited them. People seemed to deplane rather quickly, landing just after eight in the evening. If they hurried they might be able to squeeze in a good nights rest at home before reporting back early tomorrow morning. Hermione, Jonas Quaid and a third Aurur, Vincent Cameron deplaned with the Muggle's, and Hermione ordered Cameron to Dissapparate once the convoy moved out. She and Jonas would escort the minister to Number 10 Downing Street where the night shift would take over his protection until the morning.

The convoy loaded up quickly and began to move out. There were three armored cruisers, and the minister's limousine all escorted in front and back by two local police wagons. Several motorcycle officers encircled the formation, moving ahead and falling back to clear traffic for the minister.

Hermione was tired, but excited at the same time. It had been just over a week, but she was still glad to be home. A thought crossed her mind, as she unclipped her Muggle phone from her hip. She flipped it open and scrolled through her stored numbers to find her parents. She wanted to give them a quick ring, just to let them know she was home safe for the night. Her peripheral vision saw a flash of light, and just as she looked up her cruiser was struck with a massive impact flipping it onto its side and then upside down on to the roof.

The world went silent at once as Hermione, lost grip of her phone and struggled to reach it above her head. With outstretched fingers she grabbed it along with a handful of broken glass just as the vehicle came to an immediate halt, jarring Hermione's teeth and jaw as her body snapped against the seat restraint. Somehow they were right side up again, and the only sound she could hear was the ringing in her ears. Her phone was lost.

With her head slumped forward and her eyes closed; there was a sound. Extremely loud, but unrecognizable. The sound came again, beginning to sound like someone beating a large drum, only this time she seemed to feel the vibration of the sound in her leg. There it was again, and again. Hermione opened her eyes, with her head still slumped forward to see large blobs of black appearing before her, coinciding with the loud gong sound. She blinked and the black came into focus as a dark red, on light tan color. The sound came again, and with it, a new blob of brighter red color. It seemed to appear from between her eyes before expanding on the tan canvas. Then came another. Hermione blinked into focus again and realized the tan canvas was her leg; the tan slacks she wore soaking up the blood dripping from her face one drop at a time.

Hermione pulled back causing her head to squeal in disapproval. What she knew to be blood dripped down her face from her forehead and felt like it was trickling out of her nose into her mouth. She blinked again and slowly started to understand. There had been an accident! She looked forward seeing her driver and passenger were slumped over in their seats. To her left, her partner, Jonas was obviously dead. Whatever had impacted their vehicle had crushed part of his skull; he was bleeding profusely from the hole in his head. She looked around, with exception of Jonas's window; all others were in tact but shattered in place. She reached for the door handle and pulled, but the door didn't budge. Slamming her shoulder franticly into it several times didn't make things any better; she unclipped her lap restraint with shaking hands and moved up to find another means of escape. It was then she remembered her wand!

It was out of her breast pocket faster than a blink, and as soon as her fingers touched the vine and dragon heart-string wand all her fear seemed to be sucked from her hands clearing her mind. With her left foot she pushed herself away from her door and blasted it off its hinges with a silent curse. She sprung out onto the pavement nearly stumbling from loose debris and her earlier blow to the head.

She looked frantically left and right to see several vehicles on fire or smashed. There were bodies in the street; none of them moved, with rocks, debris and broken glass everywhere. The moment she began to question if this was an accident; her ears gave her the answer. Gunfire! Someone was shooting! She stepped out from behind her destroyed cruiser and moved forward in the direction the convoy should have been traveling. To her relief, she found the ministers limousine damaged, but in tact with the engine running. There were perhaps fifteen armed Special Branch commandos surrounding the minister's transport in a circle facing outward. Brandishing enough guns to invade France, each one searched for a target, with some actually firing as the minister's limousine's engine revved trying to escape. It was held up on a large piece of debris as other security forces attempted to clear the rubble. Acting quickly, Hermione ran up to the commandos and screamed, "MOVE!"

Pointing her wand at the debris as two soldiers cleared from her path. With a flick of her wrist, a large orange bolt shot from the end of her wand like a laser. The debris didn't move for a second then turned white-blue and exploded, freeing the limousine. With a screech of tire, the commandos jumped on the limousine and it started to pull away. One agent reached out a hand for Hermione as she raced to catch up. Amidst all that noise, she couldn't believe she heard it, but there was no denying, she did.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, causing her to fall forward into broken glass just as a bright green killing curse passed over her head from behind. She watched as it struck the back of the limousine hitting one secret services agent in the stomach. He flopped around on the back of the moving limousine before falling to the street, dead. Still lying on the ground, Hermione pointed her wand at the speeding limousine, which had now picked up another escort vehicle with agents and guns hanging out the windows.

She flicked her wand as fast as a Muggle's fingertips on a typewriter, launching every protection curse, charm or jinx she could think of. Before the escape convoy turned the corner she believed she managed about thirteen different hexes, which should protect him until they could get him back to a secure location.

Hermione rolled onto her back and took a deep breath, she could feel broken glass and other debris cutting her everywhere she touched the ground. With her non-wand hand she fussed around her collar looking for something, after a moment she found it. A small curly wire with an ear piece attached to it. She forced it into her ear, and was flooded with frantic radio traffic. On her wand hand sleeve was her microphone; she took a deep, painful breath before placing it to her lips.

"BREAK, BREAK, BREAK," Hermione said into the microphone with a calm, yet authoritative voice. "This is Dragon, the package is en route; all wrapped up, except for a bow. I am on scene, situation is, Enchanting!" She spoke in code knowing someone on the other end would understand. In that short phrase she informed her superiors, she had engulfed the minister with magical protection, but no one magical was with him at the moment. She said she was still at the attack site, and there was an unknown amount of other, unfriendly wizards present. The radio traffic was dead silent for about five seconds, until another voice squawked back.

"Roger, copy. Dragon on scene, package en route, situation enchanted." With the man's voice acknowledging her transmission Hermione sat up in the shards and debris and pulled the receiver from her ear. The bleeding in her face had slowed but she could still feel warm blood on her cheek and neck. Placing her wand between her teeth, she reached into her pocket, pulling out a small hair tie to secure her down hair behind her neck. She touched her forehead feeling a large gash, and another on the bridge of her nose. Taking the wand from her mouth, she used her bloodied hands to push her to her feet. Hermione unbuttoned her suit coat and let it slide to the ground while grabbing what remained of two electronic pagers from her hip.

She tossed them to the ground in spite along with her Muggle pistol, and ripped the receiver and microphone wires from her sleeve. Holding her palm flat with her wand in its center she whispered and incantation causing her wand to levitate and rotate around like a compass. Commanding it to point the way of the nearest wizard or witch it froze pointing almost directly to her front.

Hermione looked up and got a fix on where the wand pointed and grasped it in a tight fist causing blood to ooze out from between her fingers. This was not a part of her detailed and well laid out plan. This was the part where someone got their ass kicked.

* * *

Hermione set off in a full sprint in the direction her wand pointed. It led towards a large bridge her convoy crossed just minutes ago. Her head pounded from what felt like a concussion and from the cuts on her head and face. Her ribs ached where the seat restraint had probably broken some but she had so much adrenaline coursing through her veins she could barely feel anything.

"NIMO VIGILANTIA" she gasped, as she breathed heavy and flicked her wand. This curse would prevent anyone from Disapporating without taking her with them. It was a standard hex which any rookie criminal new how to prevent, which mean it was now a race for a portkey. Portkeys could not be traced, not like Disapporating could. She had no idea how many people she was chasing, but her wand was beginning to act erratically as a compass, meaning she was getting close.

She arrived at the edge of a bridge and stopping suddenly in her tracks to try and listen. Hermione heard nothing except distant autos traveling around London. She held her wand aloft again, and again it spun in circles. Either she had not cast the spell correctly or there was more than one wizard around her. She looked left and right but saw nothing. She snapped around left again, and out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of something. A disturbance in the air, but only for a split second as it vanished.

Acting quickly, Hermione raised her wand high in the air and in a stabbing motion dropped to her knees, jabbing it into the asphalt at her feet. A loud crack of bright red-beamed light shot to the heavens as a pale blue sphere exploded in an ever-expanding circle from the epicenter of her wand. If someone was hiding, this nuclear grade reveal curse would expose everything.

The blue wave of light shot out and almost instantaneously knocked three cloaked targets to their backs. The invisibility cloaks they wore now completely neutralized. Hermione was to her feet before they were; knowing this would be her one chance to call for backup. Raising her want to the sky again, she screamed "PETRONUM FAMEALLE!"

A white burst of light leaped from the end of her wand as the otter of her Patronis came to life. Swimming through the air in graceful flips of its hind legs; in circled Hermione. After one full circle the otter seemed to split into three equal sized otters, one red, one purple, and one green; all the same size as the original white one that was no longer there.

The red and purple otters took off to the sky at the speed of light together, while the green one headed towards downtown back the way she'd come. Hermione smiled and raised her wand just as the first wizard was getting to his feet.

"STUPEFY!" She yelled aiming just to the right of the first wizard. He dove left to get out of its way, not even wasting pointless energy to block the curse. He wasn't supposed to block it, Hermione thought. The wizard diving left opened the circle they had created around her. With four quick steps to her right, she could now turn around and have them all in front of her. You had to get up pretty early to surround Hermione Granger.

Moving out of the circle, she faced the three men who were now all on their feet. Realizing they no longer surrounded her, they moved closer to each other and began advancing towards her. 'Standard tactical mistake, move closer together to feel safer, but in turn making it easier to be hit with an area attack,' Hermione thought.

Hermione waited, as they got closer, and waited some more. Finally, once the last wizard was in range, she engaged. Stepping backwards in controlled steps, her wand hand resembled a handyman beating a nail with a hammer, only ten times faster. At every apex of her stroke at least one curse rocketed from her wand. The wizards scrambled to avoid her hexes, while blocking others desperately trying to expand the size of their formation on the bridge making it harder for her to attack all three of them.

Hermione ceased casting, flung her extended arms out wide the slapped them together at arms length in front of her face. Two tidal waves of orange, fire-like energy, one from the left and one from the right blasted the men back into the center of the road where she could manage them better. As they got to their feet, Hermione continued her onslaught.

The bravest of the three wizards charged her running in full steam, daringly avoiding her curses. A purple bolt raced from his wand tip at her, and at the last possible second a yellow and green twisting beam jumped from Hermione's wand; locking his spell in a tight battle. For a moment the purple hex pushed Hermione's counter curse back towards her; causing her feet to slide on the pavement; Hermione pushed back with all her might. She extended her free hand, flexing her fingers, and as if lifting a ten-kilo weight brought it up under her wand in support. The wizards purple beam continued to inch closer to her, now just two meters away. The light caused by the two spells colliding obscured the other two wizard's sight so for now she was safe, if only for a moment. The other two men's spells missed her badly since they could not get a lock on her exact position.

Hermione raised her left eyebrow, and around her in a five-meter radius, a thousand red sparkles appeared. Even as the purple beam of the other wizard advanced on her, she smiled, releasing the sparkles. In a flash of red lasers, they streaked towards her hands and exploded in a red pulse wave through the end of her wand. Traveling at an incredible speed, the red pulse raced to the end of her green-yellow beam overtaking his purple line, and rocketed to his wand. Without a sound her pounding erupted into a red super-nova engulfing the wizard. Hermione released her grip and braced for impact as the sonic boom hit seconds later.

Crouched to her knees, she knew he was done and stood to face the other two, still trying to get to their feet from the most recent detonation.

Hermione jumped to her feet screaming "ACCIO WAND!" The fallen wizards weapon smacked into her left hand as she pointed one at each of the remaining two wizards. "You are both under arrest! Drop your wands and step back!" She commanded but knew they had no intention of obeying.

The wizard on her left shot first, but Hermione merely flicked her wrist to block his spell.

"AVADA KADAVRA!" The right wizard yelled, unleashing a green flash Hermione dove to avoid.

As she rolled to her left, on her way to her feet she touched the two tips of her wands together creating a black-purple flash. Pulling the wands apart, standing erect, the black light extended like a pensive string between the two wands. She spun to gain momentum, coming around and underhandedly flicking both wands at her targets.

Two purple and black-lit constricting serpents came to life from the wand points and raved towards the two wizards. The left wizard offered no resistance as his serpent wrapped and overwhelmed him immediately; knocking him to the asphalt with a paralyzing jolt of magical current. The right wizard fired a few hexes at his serpent; upon striking it only made it larger. Once it had hold of him, she was sure the jolt was twice what the other man received.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Hermione shouted knocking the left wizard's wand from his hand, as he lay unconscious from her spell. "EXPELLIARMUS!" She shouted again, knocking the right wizard's wand from his barely conscious fingers. Using the two wands she activated a dual Lumous charm and searched in a circle for anyone else. She was alone.

"Mud-blood my ass!" She screamed in victory, forcing herself to take a breath. She continued to look around for any other sign of attack, but saw nothing.

She stepped forward to examine the three downed wizards, and collect the last two wands strewn on the road. She heard a very subtle crack behind her and felt as if someone had bumped her gently from behind causing her to stumble slightly. She stopped walking when she saw a small bit of pavement spit up in front of her to the left. Her ears picked up the sound of a wand hitting the ground. She felt funny and looked around. Sure enough, there was a wand at her feet, only it was the wand she had just taken from the very first wizard and used to defeat the other two. Hermione was confused, and light headed. She reached for the wand with her left hand but it didn't move. She couldn't feel it at all.

Horrorstruck Hermione looked down at her left hand and saw her entire left sleeve soaked in blood and dripping from her fingers. Moving her own wand, still executing Lumous, closer to examine she could see she was bleeding uncontrollably from a hole in the left side of her chest just below the collarbone. In a panic she pushed her wand hand over the hole and turned around to the three men she'd just beaten. The last two were still out cold, but the first man was getting to his feet. She noticed a small hole on the back of her left shoulder, also badly bleeding.

Panic hit Hermione at once and she turned away from them to run back towards where she left her convoy for help. Her mind seemed to move faster than her legs, and as she stumbled down the street she heard the first wizard laughing as he picked up his wand.

"We got you in a bit of a crossfire bitch!" He yelled from behind her. It was then she realized she had been shot with a muggle bullet. She tried and tried to get her legs to move faster but her energy escaped her body as fast as her blood.

Not moving very quickly, but still moving, she saw the flash of light from a rooftop where the shooter had just released another round. She screamed, "PROTEGO!" The bullet passed right through her protection spell and slammed into her pelvis like being hit by a train. It entered her to the right of her naval about three inches below her waist. Her momentum carried her torso and legs forward, but the impact of bullet on bone sent her hips and waist backwards. She collapsed upon herself as the velocity of the impacting bullet lifted her off the ground by over a full meter. She felt bones breaking and the bullet ripped through her insides on its way out of up her back. With a thud of flesh, and air being forced out of her lungs she screamed, landing on her back.

Hermione couldn't breathe; her throat was already filled with blood. With every ounce of strength she had left she rolled to her stomach and choked up at least a half-liter of blood. The first wizard she beat was walking towards her holding his wand again, while the second had regained his footing as was stumbling to catch up. Hermione continued to gasp and cry; choking forced her left lung to collapse inside her chest.

"Not a bad little witch you are, mud-blood." The man said from about five meters away from her, raising his wand. "Enjoy the afterlife, bitch!"

In a flash of instinct, Hermione remembered the spell she translated for Ron, but never told him. Secretly she feared he was working on breaking unforgivable curses, and this, mistranslated spell, was all she had left to fight what she knew was coming.

"AVADA KADAVRA!" The wizard spoke.

"VIKASI!" Hermione cried, choking up blood while raising her wand at the last instant. The two spells collided in mid air. Hers blue with a red swirl, hitting his green killing curse. The result was instantaneous. A sonic detonation where the two curses met, that both sent the wizard flying away, and its sheer force slid Hermione three meters backwards along the asphalt streaking it with her blood. Hermione gasped, trying to force in any air she could manage.

She dropped her head to the pavement with a thud, as she could barely hear the second wizard freaking out at her blocking the killing curse. She raised her head again from the road, her hair sticking in her blood, to see them advancing again. She had nothing left but raised her wand anyway, right into the first wizards disarming hex. Hermione was almost glad it was gone, she was so tired; she just wanted to close her eyes.

Behind the two men, she saw a flash of light. Hermione squinted to focus but couldn't make out what it was. The two wizards turned around to see what she was staring at. They turned just in time to see Hermione's red otter Patronus sail between them. Now on her left side spitting up blood with every breath she laid her head on her outstretched arm.

There was a flash of white light, and then another. She heard a man scream as her vision went in and out of focus, then more light. She opened her eyes to see a bright red beam bouncing around over where she lay, a second later an orange streak came along side it from the direction of her feet. She lifted her head as far as she could towards her feet and saw two men locking wands with her wizards. She tried to sit up but could only move her head.

A face appeared on top of her, but Hermione could not focus in on it. She felt a hand behind her neck attempting to lift her as she choked on more blood. She was freezing, but the hand on her neck felt warm. Hermione's eyes closed, as she swore she could hear someone calling her name in the distance. She choked and choked, gasping for air and rested her head in the chest of whomever was trying to pick her up. Her eyes fell heavy as the darkness finally took hold.

* * *

"Hermione!" Ginny screamed as she pulled her head off the road. "HERMIONE!" Ginny placed her hand over the wound in her belly as Harry and Ron advanced past their position with wands blazing at Hermione's attackers. They had each received Hermione's distress calls, and in turn responded as quickly as they could. Ginny was wearing her white night gown and house slippers. Ron had no shoes on just a cotton shirt and sleep pants and Harry was wearing only sleep pants and boat shoes.

"Hermione! It's Ginny, can you hear me? Hermione!" She was completely covered in blood as Ginny tried to scoop her up. Ron and Harry moved aggressively in on the two wizards, casting spells and locking wands pushing them further and further back.

"Christ, she's fucked up!" Ginny yelled cursing for the first time in her life. Harry looked back at the horror on her face.

"St. Mongo's, NOW!" He screamed. Ginny nodded, grabbed hold of Hermione with both arms, and with a crack, the two of them vanished from the bridge.

Ron moved in hard on the wizard he was fighting, throwing curse after curse until he was fighting from the ground. With two flicks of his wand the wizard was disarmed by Ron just as he saw Harry's target go sailing by under the influence of Levicorpus.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ron spotted a third man looking over the railing of the bridge down below. He ran over to subdue him, but just as he got in range, the man found what he was looking for. With a flick of his wand, he called the port key from down below and vanished.

Ron turned, barefoot seeing Harry rounding up the other two.

"What the fuck is going on, mate?" Ron screamed as he ran over to Harry.

"I think they tried to attack the Minister. We need to get them back to the Ministry for questioning."

"Did you see Hermione?" Ron begged.

"Only for a second, Ginny's got her at St. Mongo's."

"Was it bad?" Ron said softly.

Harry, trying hard to find the best way of breaking the news to Ron, nodded.

Ron pulled up his wand and pointed it at the head of the closest prisoner. "What did you do? What the fuck did you do?"

Harry pushed himself between Ron and the wizard. "Wait"

Ron didn't hear Harry, he was distracted away from the wizard at his mercy by a large dark stain on the asphalt.

"Christ, look at all this blood! Look at all her blood!" Ron screamed pointing to the pavement, tears streaking his face. He dropped to his knees, letting his wand slip from his fingers. His eyes grew larger as the magnitude hit him. Ron's mind couldn't absorb what his eyes were seeing; pools and puddles of Hermione spilled for no reason.

"We better hurry." Harry interrupted as he grabbed one prisoner. After a moment in shock, Ron stood and grabbed the other. Ron's heart beat loudly in his chest as he focused his mind on Disapparating to the Ministry.


	11. Chapter 10: Hermione's Fight

Chapter 10 – Hermione's Fight

Ron filled his lungs with strength before he dared step through the door of St. Mongo's Hospital for magical injuries. He stood outside, in a sort of serenity garden with Harry and he dared not move. His best mate of eleven years standing beside him, they dared not speak and they dared not walk through those doors. Ron's imagination had no idea what horrors they might see when they entered; somehow standing outside seemed the safest, but in the end he knew he would have to go inside. With one last breath of courage, he looked to Harry who looked to be in his own personal hell too. Ron nodded at Harry, and pushed the white doors open. The moment the door swung open Ron wished he had stayed outside where all he had was his imagination.

He felt his face pale as he stepped into the waiting room. Almost immediately, contact came from behind him as Harry pushed past. In the middle of the waiting room, on her knees was his sister Ginny, covered in blood. Her white night gown soaked to the skin with the bright red blood of Hermione. Resting on her knees, she sat on her ankles holding her soaked hands out with fingers flexed. On the floor below them, her wand, caked in blood and resting amidst a pool and several smears of red.

Hermione's blood covered every inch of Ginny's arms, but the biggest concentration was clearly her torso where it appeared she cradled Hermione. Her gown completely saturated with red and pink, only showed its original color on Ginny's back, though there were a few blood handprints and smears back there as well. Ginny looked up as Harry came sliding in through the pools of Hermione on the floor. Her face was pale and clammy with a smeared handprint across her left cheek. Harry wrapped his arms around her as she looked back to her hands in horror.

Ron still had not moved, he just watched. He followed red smeared footprints and streaks from where Ginny kneeled leading back outside. About fifty circular drops of blood of varying sizes marked their path in as Hermione looked to have bled out completely. Beyond Ginny, the blood dissipated but left a trail none the less leading through a set of green doors.

Ron heard a new noise and realized Ginny had vomited in Harry's arms. Her sick mixed with the blood as Harry pulled her tightly into his chest. Still, Ron stood in the doorway, frozen. He looked at the door he held open with his hand, and saw a bright smear on it too. He snatched his fingers away, but it was too late, Hermione's blood was now on him too.

Harry kept trying to talk to Ginny, but she was in complete shock. He kept trying to get her to her feet, but she refused to snap out of her daze. Harry's shoddy shoes slipped repeatedly trying to stand her up, finally he screamed to Ron for help. Ron blinked and wiped his hand on his shirt and stepped through the door. He felt his first bare foot step into something wet and sticky, but refused to allow his brain to process what it might be. With another stride he reached out for his only sister and with Harry's help the moved her to a nearby chair.

Ginny began to sob as Harry wiped some of the blood and vomit from her face. Her cries grew louder as Harry did his best to comfort her. Somehow, Ron found himself jealous of Harry whose love for his sister had snapped him from the hell of possibly losing Hermione. Ron had no such escape, he stood in the waiting room frozen, staring at the green doors.

His mind seemed to snap into gear when he realized Hermione was back beyond those doors without him. He made it ten meters through the doors before two witch's grabbed hold of him trying to force him back into the waiting area. As he resisted them, he pushed past a white cloth divider to catch of glimpse of Hermione. Unfortunately, his eyes saw much more than a glimpse.

For just a second he saw her, and a second was all he needed. Lying on a cot with at least eight other wizards and witches around her, Hermione lay naked as they tried desperately to save her life. A wizard at the head of her cot moved just as the first two witches's regained control of Ron, allowing him an un-obscured view of her lifeless pale face staring at him with cloudy, dead eyes.

Ron felt the life being sucked from his soul and before he realized it, he was back out in the waiting around with Ginny and Harry. He found a seat next to Harry and waited, unable to even form words.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when his mother and father burst through the doors. The scene was surreal, and he was unable to make out what they were saying to him. His mother looked from him to Harry trying to get answers from her knees as his father looked at the blood on the floor in pure horror.

Molly Weasley jumped up from her knees and burst through the green doors as Arthur took her place comforting their children. Ron laughed somewhere inside his head wondering how long it would take for her to be bounced out. However, after a few moments he realized she was not being asked to leave.

Ron's head swirled again as more of what just happened began to enter focus in his mind. He still couldn't answer his father's questions, but Harry seemed to be answering for both of them. A crashing noise at the hospital's entrance distracted Ron's gaze on the floor and with blurry, dazed eyes he saw his brother's Bill and George arrive looking quite worried.

Ron stood to address them, but could not figure out how to speak. They seemed to shout at him, asking questions Ron did not understand. Finally giving up, they turned to their father who appeared to be filling them in.

It was George's arm Ron felt wrapping around him, helping him into a seat. He made noises with his mouth Ron did not understand, ultimately turning his head away from his younger brother. Ron's gaze became fixed on George's cursed ear, now covered with strawberry locks of hair; he could still not understand what everyone was saying.

Ron lost track of time, trying to see George's ear underneath his hair, but when he looked up his mother emerged from behind the green doors calling for Arthur. She said something he could not hear, causing his father to nod and head out the main entrance and not return. As soon as he left, Molly did not address the children who were all standing around her waiting for news. She turned and walked back through the green doors. As Ron's father passed by his mind wondered if perhaps he should mention Hermione's parents, but George's ear grabbed his attention again before he could complete the thought.

*** * ***

Ron twirled his wand through the fingers of his right hand while he lay on red cushions in front of a dimming fire. He was half sat up, half lying down with his back against the cushions normally sat upon on Ginny's couch. It was the dead of winter, and London was covered in a blanket of snow. Though frigid outside, it was quite warm inside and while lying in front of the fire, his flannel house pants were more than enough to keep him warm.

His eyes were heavy, and danced in the flames and coals of the fireplace. The last of the Unicorn's Essence incense filling the room with a sweet, rustic smell. He shifted his weight ever so slightly to get more comfortable, but he dared not move too much. He dare not wake the peaceful slumber of the most incredible girl in the history of the universe. Hermione lay completely on the floor next to him. Her arm and shoulder wrapped around him at the waist, her face resting on his stomach under a throw pillow. She was sound asleep, and as much as he would love to talk to her, he could not bring himself to wake such a beauty.

On her stomach, he caressed her bare back with the softest of touch. He gently ran his fingers up and down her spine which seemed so beautiful to him in the orange glow of the fire. She was wrapped to a degree in a cream throw, but it really only covered her waist and part of Ron's leg. Next to him was their second bottle of wine, which Ron was still working on. His mind raced too much to sleep, but his body was so tired.

They spent the day together as Harry was still with Ginny in St. Mongo's. Hermione had herself a busy weekend at the Quittich World Cup, under Ron's fingertips, the bruises on her back were proof of just how hard she fought. Her breathing was so very deep now; he knew she had surrendered to complete exhaustion. Somehow, this amazing girl was in love with him.

He knew it, he had felt it. Just moments earlier, he felt her love for him. He was so proud of her, what she had done in Spain; everyone was talking about it. He knew tomorrow things would be different, when everything sunk in, but today he knew this very moment would be one he revisited for the rest of his life. The day he knew Hermione Granger loved him.

Oh, nothing had really happened today, that had not happened before; not in a physical sense. For some reason today, the connection was more intense. There was something different. It started when he arrived home with Harry. She was much more touchy than normal, holding his hand and smiling while they walked in to see Ginny. She had kissed him at least a hundred times since he had been home, but it wasn't the amount that made things odd. When they first started dating he was amazed how affectionate Hermione was, an aspect of her personality he never expected. Today there was something in her kisses, something in the way she held his hand.

When they got back to the flat alone, Ron half expected to be jumped the moment he walked in the door, but her mood was different. Out of character, it was she who cracked into the wine, and she who started the fire. Within minutes, she created an amazingly romantic mood, with candles and spells bouncing soft light off everything. It wasn't a physical mood, it was emotional.

Hermione talked about her fight with the wizards, and let loose fears inside her she probably never shared with anyone. Ron was unsure how he was sucked into such a connection but his heart broke for her when she talked about her duel. He really began to understand what it was like in her head, how her mind worked. Unlike his, which in a crisis situation desperately searches for an answer, he finally understood her mind, which has to choose between a hundred good ideas. Sorting the pro's and con's of each idea in a fraction of a second. When she explained and shared her doubts about her skills, wondering if her decisions would cost Ginny and her, their lives, Ron really felt her pain. She was tormented by doubt, and losing the people she loved most.

After about an hour of talking with her, and listening it was usually Ron who interrupted the talk with some serious snogging. This time, it was Hermione who acted first. Ron just shook his head reliving their connection in sheer bewilderment. For the first time in his life he felt her soul, and he loved it.

His fingers grazed over her back and came across a knot in her skin. Looking down he saw a purple starburst-like bruise forming. Too many personal experiences in Auror training identified that bruise as one from a stunning curse at extremely close range. He rolled his eyes and bit on his lower lip as his heart fluttered in his chest. The thought of someone hurting her just made him completely nauseous. He did his best to remove the thought from his mind.

He continued to caress her back, minding the bruises and trying not to wake her. He loved her shape, the curves of her hips into her back, the color of her skin and especially how she smelled.

Part of him knew he always loved her, when she kissed him at Hogwart's. It was very challenging to think of her like a girlfriend and not one of his best friends; that did take some time. Secretly, he always did find her extremely attractive. Around the age when boys begin to notice girls, Ron noticed Hermione before anyone else. She physically entered his dreams their third year, which was when he noticed her growth spurt. Perhaps all the time they spent together in school, but the first thing he remembered noticing was her smell. It was like beauty in a bottle.

Her arm twitched across his waist ripping him from his daydream about her. He looked down to see her face underneath all of the mess that was her hair. Her cheeks twitched as her arm tightened again around him. She mumbled something he did not understand and began to breathe erratically. Hermione's breathing made it sound like she was having a nightmare and after what she had been through he could certainly understand why. His wand curled through his fingers one last time coming to a halt in the ready position as he rested that arm on a pile of pillows opposite to where she lay. He flicked it causing a pale blue mist to seep out of the end and drift over her body. It hovered over her for a second horizontally then dropped quickly to her skin and vanished. Hermione let out a quick shiver without waking, and then exhaled a slow deep breath telling Ron she was now back into deep sleep.

Whatever she was dreaming about was gone thanks to the charm Ron put on her. A nice sleeping spell designed to create bliss and happiness in deep sleep. Tonight she gave him his first ever access into her soul, the least he could do to repay such a wonderful gift was to offer a decent nights rest in return.

Ron blinked as he realized he was drifting out of a dream. His face felt warm, as if he was smothered in something extremely soft. Cracking open his eyes, all he could see was white. White fabric around his face, making the air warm and a stale after breathing it too many times.

These were not his sheets, but he definitely felt like he was in a bed. He did not recognize what he was seeing, everything seemed white. His whole body felt warm, except his feet which were surely sticking out of the covers he seemed cocooned within. Breathing in through his nose, he knew these were not his linens, and they were definitely not Hermione's because hers smelled so much sweeter. Ron's eye snapped open completely as he forced himself up onto his hands and knees in the bed.

"Hermione!" He gasped trying desperately to understand his surroundings.

From behind him he heard someone shush him silent as he turned to face her. His eyes focused on the room he concluded to be within St. Mongo's hospital. He lurched from the mess of linens and was a bit startled by his bare feet hitting the cold floor. His head felt cloudy, like he had a heady and he could feel himself wobble a bit as he got to his feet too quickly. He heard a familiar voice and looked up to see his father rushing towards him.

"Where's Hermione!" He begged with a whisper, staring his father straight in the face who embraced him with a tight hug.

"She's in another room, Ron. Are you okay?"

"Fine." He said and changed the subject. "Is she okay?"

"We don't know yet. They are still working on her."

"Still, how long has it been? Why am I in here?"

"It's been fourteen hours Ron, since we got here. We had to sedate you and Ginny. She's couldn't calm down, and you," Arthur looked away. "You stopped breathing. The nurses said it happens in shock, and suggested we sedate both of you to allow your bodies to reset."

Ron poured over what his father was telling him, before demanding to see Hermione. Arthur explained that no one was allowed to see her yet. Only her parents and Ron's mother had been back there a few times to be with her.

He walked with his father out into the waiting area, which was now crowded with people. The usual suspects were present as always. Molly, Arthur, Bill, Fleur, Victorie, Harry, Ginny, George, Percy, Neville, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. There were also faces he did not expect to see. Minister Shacklebolt and two of his aides. Head Mistress MacGonagall and Hagrid. Everyone's face seemed to brighten up as he walked into the room with his father.

Several people offered him hugs of support and kind praises of well-wishing. Hagrid sat on the floor in the corner sobbing into his hands, and Professor MacGonagall had an extremely serious look on her face. Victorie was playing at her mother's feet, making silly faces with Neville. Ron noticed the floor had been cleaned of Hermione's blood. It was after a few moments Harry walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"All right there Ron?" He asked?

"Yeah, got a bit of heady though."

"Natural side effect, you gave us quite a scare, mate."

"What happened?" He asked at a whisper.

"You were going on about George's hair," Harry laughed softly. "Then you just sorta went into shock. Same thing happened with Ginny."

Ron smiled embarrassed, "Do we know anything?"

"Only that's she's really hurt. They had the hardest time stopping the bleeding for some reason. They told Mrs. Granger that Hermione should be okay if she can make it through the night. That was six hours ago, and we haven't heard a thing. They are still working on her."

Ron rolled his eyes and looked over at Minister Shacklebolt who was talking softly to his two aides as they took notes. He turned back to Harry.

"Did the Minister say anything?"

"No he was waiting for you to wake up."

Ron nodded and followed Harry over to the corner where the Minister stood. As he walked by Ginny she gave her brother a soft affectionate look of support and grabbed his hand. He smiled at her as they approached the Minister.

"Minister?" Both Ron and Harry said with respect. He finished his sentence to his aides then turned to face them.

"Weasley, Potter. I trust you are feeling better Ron?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do we know anything Minister?" Harry asked.

"Not much. And what we do think we know, doesn't seem like its right."

"How so?" Ron questioned.

"We counted nine curses used on the muggle's, mostly attacks and explosions and of course one Killing Curse used on a muggle. Granger's fight is another story, it is going to take weeks to sift through what happened there."

"Why would a wizard attack the muggle Minister?" Ron said. "What could they possibly have to gain by hurting him?"

"We are not completely sure he was the target. Granger's vehicle was the first one attacked, which we believe killed her partner, Jonas Quaid immediately. Are you aware of any enemies either of them would have in our world?"

"Who Hermione and Jonas? No, not at all!" Ron blurted back.

"The attacked seemed to focus on them, not on the minister."

"So he had no magical residue on him at all?" Said Harry, trying to make sense of what he was being told.

"There were over ten protection spells and charms on his vehicle, and the remnants of a killing curse, but that was it. Not much if he was the primary target."

"Who cast the protection?" Ron wondered. "Who's wand?"

"Granger's" Kingsley said, causing Ron to smile.

"Minister just because the Auror's attracted most of the onslaught doesn't mean they were the target." Harry added, trying to help brainstorm. "If I were going to attack the Minister, I would take out the magical element first, knowing full well the muggle's would offer me very little resistance."

"Agreed," Shacklebolt smiled with a deep rasp to his voice.

"What have the interrogations told you, from the two chaps we brought in?" Ron was beginning to get nervous, as if the Minister was not telling him something.

"Weasley, do you think you are in a position to be objective? Given your history with Granger? This information is quite sensitive, and you lot have a bit of a record for running off on your own. Do you think you can handle this appropriately?" Kingsley spoke in an almost condescending tone.

"Probably not." Ron replied proudly, as Kingsley turned to face Harry.

"Don't look at me Minister, these two are my family, I am with them until the end." Harry added with a defiant tone.

"Well, I do appreciate your honesty, gentlemen." Kingsley said with a tone of authority. "However, until I say otherwise you two are to remain on indefinite-leave, paid of course. You need to let us handle it, until such time as you can prove to me you will be objective, you are out of the loop."

Ron and Harry both jumped to protest, but Kingsley merely held up his hand stopping them before they could speak. They both knew the argument was futile but they wanted to try.

"Please Minister, uh, Kingsley mate, can you tell us anything? From the interrogation, something to help us hold on while our dear friend fights for her life? Please?" Harry begged.

The Minister stood silently for a moment, then motioned for his aides to give him some privacy with the two Auror's. His eyes seemed to bounce back and forth between Harry and Ron for a good ten seconds before speaking.

"As always you know we have two stories to check out, and verify, before we can say anything conclusive." Ron and Harry nodded, knowing the procedure. "But there was one thing, both of the men said in separate interviews. I am moderately inclined to believe them."

Ron and Harry looked at each other, and then turned back to the minister.

"They both said she kicked the shit out of them. Used magic neither of them had ever even heard about."

Ron and Harry both smiled, and noticed a faint smile on the Minister's face.

"That's my girl." Ron whispered under a teary breath, as they turned away to rejoin the family.


	12. Chapter 11: Damage Done

Chapter 11 – Damage Done.

Serahn stormed out of his bedroom, screaming at Edmond. Trying desperately to tie his house robe, which his angered fingers could not manage. Frustrated, he stopped in the hall to simmer in his rage.

"What do you mean, it was a failure?" Serahn snorted through gritted teeth. "The plan was foolproof, even for you idiots!"

This was the side of Serahn that Edmond hated most. When the Bellatrix in him came out. Normally, he was an incredibly demanding, but polite aristocrat. However, in anger, he was nasty, and quite intolerant of failure.

"They didn't get past the mud-blood guarding the Prime Minister, sir. The operation never made it to the next stage." Edmond admitted with a bowed head.

Serahn was getting madder by the minute, gripping his wand as tightly as possible. He seemed to contemplate causing great pain or great destruction to something, Edmond was unsure which. Using a very calm, yet angered breath, Serahn continued.

"I find it very hard to believe one, 22 year-old, female mud-blood could defeat three of my wizards. In fact I know it's impossible, because I have dueled them all and their skill is superb. So tell me, how the fuck did this happen?"

"I don't know what to tell you, but I watched the whole thing. Yes, there were three of us, but she had them managed from the get go. Damn incredible display of magic, you could see the show for miles."

Serahn breathed through his nose, trying desperately not to kill Edmond though the thought was quite tempting.

"Voller and Kievan?" Serahn asked, his hands shaking visibly.

"Taken into custody, magically. Two wizards showed up and disappeared with them. How is it you managed to escape Master? Did you find the portkey?" Edmond asked.

Serahn nodded, "How is it, two wizards knew where to find her?"

"I don't know, sir. She made a light with her wand that split into three colors. All streaking out in different directions. A few minutes later, two wizards and a witch jumped in. The fight was over almost immediately after that."

"A witch too?" Serahn grunted, his back still turned to Edmond.

"Yes, sir. It was extremely coordinated. The two wizards arrived and immediately engaged our crew. The witch appeared behind them, and moved forward only once the first two were in combat. She reached the mud-blood and disappeared with her. There is no way that was by accident, it was rehearsed."

"And why did you not kill her?"

"I shot her twice, neither round killed her, and I am sure they both hit. Whatever you did to the bullets, they were not fatal, at least not immediately." Edmond was beginning to think he shouldn't be the one giving all of the bad news. "If I thought for a second, shooting at the wizards could have been done without me being caught I would have."

"The curses on the bullets were supposed to be perfect. They should have broken through her defenses and been lethal upon making contact with her."

"They did the first, not the second."

"And you are sure you hit her?" Edmond nodded immediately to prove he had no doubt.

Serahn raised a finger as if to say something, but only shook it, remaining silent. He bit his lower lip in frustration.

"I assume then Voller and Kievan are within the Ministry being interrogated as we speak, and I also assume we cannot track them at all." Edmond nodded in agreement with his boss. "This ruins everything, this was supposed to be a simple diversion."

Edmond did not speak.

"Do you know how long it took me to actually get a meeting with this supplier? How long until I could get close enough to put him under my power. All so he could claim responsibility for the attack, and now what can he do? Jesus Christ!" Serahn screamed slamming his fist into a wall. "I can put one-hundred sixty thousand AK-47's into a trash bag, take them by Imperius'd idiot to wherever I want and sell them however I please. The only problem is, someone has to need them. This bloke was to claim responsibility for the attack on the internet, declaring war on the Prime Minister and the UK. Brittan is already this close to sending troops into their capital; all they needed was an excuse. There it was, and there was their war justifying one-hundred million pounds worth of firepower. No troops means, no guns. No guns mean I do not get paid. Now what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Edmond knew the question was rhetorical and dared not move from his stance of respect.

Serahn paced back at forth for a minute before coming to a halt in front of Edmond. "The Bellatrix Revenge angle was secondary, but still I have to tell her. Tell her we failed."

"Sir?" Edmond interrupted politely with a whisper. "It's a portrait, what can she possibly do?"

"There is much she can do if she wants, the least of which she can stop teaching me." Serahn seemed to improvise a solution in his head. His face lit up. "It was my fault! I was not strong enough in magic. I was bested by a better wand! She will not like it, but it will force to teach me what she has been holding back. Yes!" Serahn smiled and turned to face Edmond. "How many wizards do we have left?"

"Eight–" Edmond snapped quickly.

"Tell them to find out what happened in the magical world. I want tails on each of Bellatrix's targets. Get your ass on the phone with our supplier, and tell him I will be contacting him with the day. We can still spin this our way. Report back to me the moment everything is in place."

"Yes, sir!" Edmond replied snapping into a bow and racing off.

Serahn knew Bellatrix would not tolerate failure. Luckily for him, she could not torture him from a portrait, but she could still scream!

* * *

Ron was nudged awake by whomever was sleeping in the chair next to him. His head shot up to see Ginny giving him her elbow while everyone else in the waiting room at St. Mongo's stood to address Hermione's mother. She stood in the center of the room, looking quite distraught. Her face was pale, and her eyes looked like they had seen too many tears in the last twenty-four hours. Hermione definitely had her mother's hair, he noticed, as her style was the quite familiar look of a mess held back from chaos by pure will alone.

Ron moved to his feet and stood next to Harry who completed the half-circle around her. She looked at everyone's face in turn, spending a bit longer studying Ron's face before speaking. She took a deep breath, and began.

"She has made it past the rough part." She opened to exhales and signs of relief. "Her body is responding to the medicines and potions to help her regenerate the lost blood."

"Thank goodness," Molly squealed hugging her husband.

"Hermione explained once, how little some of you understand of our world. So I will try my best to explain. She was shot twice by a high powered rifle. Which, through a controlled explosion, projects a small piece of metal at incredible speeds, with pin-point accuracy."

Arthur looked the most astonished and confused, as did the majority of the Weasleys. Ron noticed Harry, also raised by muggle's, lower his head with a wincing expression on his face. He seemed to understand more than Ron did.

"The first of the two bullets, we believe struck our daughter in the back. Just below her left shoulder blade. When bullets enter, they leave a small hole, like being stabbed with the end of your wands. The problem is any contact with any surface will cause the round to tumble, cart wheeling through the flesh and ripping anything it touches. Bullets are very easily misdirected, so their path can be erratic. This first bullet however was not redirected. It hit her scapula, which is what we call the big bone on the back of you shoulder. It passed through her scapula, breaking it into six pieces; cart wheeled through her left lung and collapsed it."

Ron felt his legs go weak, as he took a knee next to Harry. He looked up and saw Ginny already sitting and George looking like he was about to be sick.

"The bullet passed through her chest, missing her heart by about an inch and ripped its way out of her chest at the top of her left breast. Bullets may pass into the body with a small enough wound, but their exit is much more traumatic. Hermione has a hole in her chest where they bullet exited roughly the size of a child's fist. It nicked a few arteries on its course, and again collapsed her lung. Your doctors were able to repair her lung and the broken bones, and any damage they found to her blood vessels."

Ron was sitting on the floor now, holding his face is his hands. He felt the touch of someone rubbing his back, and was sure it was his mother, but it may have been Fluer.

"The second bullet was the one that nearly killed our daughter." Hermione's mother paused, allowing the family to prepare themselves. Her eyes were teary again, as she drew in strength to tell them.

"The second bullet entered her belly just below her waist." She said pointing to a spot on her frame to match where Hermione had been shot. Immediately Ginny, Fluer and Molly gasped, but Ron wasn't really sure why.

"It impacted her pelvis, sorry, her hips, and broke them in four places. The bullet ricocheted up her body, splitting off into three large shards of razor sharp metal. One piece cut its way through her small intestine and was stopped by a rib, which it broke. It has been removed, the bullet, not her rib. Another piece tumbled up her spine, fracturing two bones in her back before bouncing into her right kidney. It has also been removed, but nearly destroyed the organ. The last piece ripped through her colon and lodged itself in her spine. They worked for almost twelve hours, and finally did remove it."

George walked outside to join his father, who had obviously heard enough. Ron felt hot tears streaking his cheeks, he just wanted her to be done telling them what happened. He wanted her to get to the end, so he knew there was no more.

"They explained that it is very hard to work when you have multiple injuries, as there just isn't enough workspace for everyone. With her lung, kidney, arteries and spine their hands were full. It wasn't until just recently they started working on her bones. They had to prioritize what to fix first, in an effort to save her life."

Everyone looked up at her, preparing themselves for bad news.

"The second bullet's entrance point was catastrophic for a woman. They did the best they could, but Hermione may have," She broke off losing her battle to hold back her tears. "Reproductive issues."

Ron was completely on his back now, trying to breathe. He knew Hermione was on the fence about having kids, but one thing was for certain she did not like having decisions made for her. Tears slid from his eyes into his ears. He blinked twice, and felt strength return to his muscles. In one move, he was too his feet, and addressing everyone who was crying. He clapped his hands hard together, drawing everyone's attention.

"One thing at a time guys, she's alive! That's a start!" Ginny smiled at her brother, reinforcing his optimism. Ron moved to Hermione's mother, "Can I see her?"

"She is still unconscious, Ron, but they are allowing two people at a time to wait with her. They say she should be awake in a few days. Once her body resets itself."

Ron smiled at the thought of seeing her. He walked towards the green doors with Mrs. Granger right behind him. They moved quickly past several white curtains before coming into range of Hermione. She lay on a cot on her back under a white sheet. Ron's heart refused to allow fear inside as he looked at her, taking a seat on a stool by her head. He grabbed her right hand and held it with both of his. Her face had several bandages covering small cuts and was rather pale. Her left shoulder was bandaged completely, with a small red-pink stain of blood seeping through the white dressing where the bullet exited her chest. Dressings wrapped her entire torso as far as he could tell. Most of her was covered with a white sheet. He dared not invade her dignity by looking. Yes, he had seen every square inch of her, but if she wanted him to see her wounds then she would show him when she woke up. He massaged her fingers that felt cold in his hands.

"Hermione." Ron whispered, knowing she wouldn't respond. "I am here." He raised her hand to his cheek and lowered his face into her hand. He really was fine until he smelled her. It was the final straw of his strength. The teaspoon holding his emotions had just spilled over as he began to cry. Bending over and clutching her hand he wept on her shoulder.

Over the next several hours, many people came in to see Hermione. Harry and Ginny of course, followed by Ron's parents, each coming in alone so Ron could stay with her. Fluer came in, but Bill and George did not. Professor McGonagall visited briefly, but Hagrid and Minister Shacklebolt opted to stay outside. Neville did not come in either.

Ron never left her side, except when they changed her dressings or performed any sort of examination that might be considered private. He was determined to respect every ounce of her privacy, after all they were no longer a couple thanks to him. The hospital staff brought him meals, and even allowed him a private bath to shower. Molly brought him fresh clothes from Grimould Place, and made sure he got his rest. He moved several curtains around the cot next to Hermione which was surprisingly closer than it was when he arrived. Inside the curtains now were two cots, one for him and one for her. He didn't sleep much, only really resting when he sat down on the floor next to her and rested his head on her sheet. He would wrap her good arm around his head and doze off with her hand in front on his nose.

* * *

Ron snapped out of a dream, feeling something brush across his face. He yawned and raised his head, which rested previously under Hermione's right arm. Holding her hand with his left, he sat up and felt the room spin a bit. There was very little light, as he looked around the room to see no one standing near him. He must have been dreaming.

It seemed really late, or really early depending how you looked at it. He tilted his head to the right, trying to pop the kink out of his neck. He leaned back in the chair, and looked at Hermione's face. The moonlight cast in through the window over her head, giving her a peaceful glow about her. He smiled, and squeezed her hand gently.

She squeezed back.

"Hermione!" Ron whispered lurching forward in his chair. As he got closer he could see her eyes were open ever so slightly and looking straight at him.

She smiled a faint smile, and attempted to speak. Her throat offered a visibly painful refusal causing her to cough quietly. She forced her hand away from him his and massaged her neck before trying to speak again. It took her several tries to speak without hurting herself, but when she finally managed, it made Ron smile.

"Ouch!" She whispered with almost a laugh in her scratchy voice.

"Careful, don't try and do to much."

She smiled at him, and could see the tears in his eyes, as he stroked her hair.

"S-Someone needs to shave." Hermione bantered.

Ron smiled, and touched his face. "It's been nine days Hermione, I was thinking of pulling a Dumbledore. Whatcha think?" He said, while stroking his stubble.

It was like old times between the two of them as Hermione shook her head playfully before making a sour face and grabbing her left shoulder.

"Careful!" Ron whispered, laughing to try and cover his sad eyes.

She reached up with her good arm, and touched his face. She stuck her tongue out feeling his whiskers, and rolled her eyes.

Ron looked around the rest of the room to see if he could spot a nurse or anyone he could tell she was awake. Hermione's hand tapped his face with her index finger causing Ron to turn back to her. He grabbed her hand with his and held it next to his face.

"D-Didn't t-think I would be w-waking up n-next to you, anymore." She spoke with a sigh. "M-Missed it."

Ron nodded, smiling politely. He raised his wand pointing it at the foot of her bed. "Let me get your folks in here. EXPECTO –"

Hermione's hand reached up and covered his mouth, preventing him from finishing the charm. He turned and looked at her as she mouthed, "Just a minute."

Ron lowered his wand and set it on the cot next to her leg. He grabbed her hand with both of his and scooted in close so she could whisper.

"H-How b-b-bad?"

Ron looked her straight in the eyes and had to decide quickly whether or not he was going to lie to her. The answer escaped his lips before he realized, "It's pretty bad Hermione, but you 'will' get better."

"Y-You got my 'tronus?" She spoke softly.

Ron nodded with a smile.

"It w-was you?"

Ron was nodding but not sure exactly what he was agreeing to.

"S-Screamed?"

Ron lowered his head into the mattress of the cot, he couldn't bear to look her in the eyes anymore. Yes, it was he who had screamed when he and Harry apparated to the bridge. He began to sob into the sheets as Hermione stroked his hair.

"H-Have, is-issues, you 'n m-me." She added.

Ron raised his head to meet her gaze, but he didn't know what to say.

"C-Couldn't, C-C-C-Could, C-Couldn't beat 'm." She forced out, causing Ron to put his hand to her lips. She pulled his hand away. "T-Team, g-g-good, good team." She smiled and squeezed his hand implying they were a good match.

"I-Issues." A tear slipped from her right eye as she smiled at him.

"Yes, we have issues, and when you are all better we are gonna work them the fuck out!" Ron wasn't whispering anymore, he was confident, and demanding. His voice a tad choked.

"U-Under-understand-d now, I-I think" She coughed softly to clear her throat.

Ron took a deep breath, sliding out of his chair onto his knees resting his face right next to hers. "Yes, you and I have issues, and yes we will work them out. I close my eyes, every single night and see me by your side, we just have to work out the finer points."

"M-Me 't y-yer si'" She was garbled but he understood her, causing a toothy smile to cross his face. "Au-Auror-r."

"At each others sides then." Ron interrupted. "But we can work that out later. Just you get better, Hermione so we can fight about silly stuff." Ron's last sentence choked him up, and broke his train of thought. Hermione shook her head when he mentioned fighting as he noticed she was now crying. Ron looked around the room from just above her face to see if anyone was around. Seeing no one he turned back to face her, her free hand stroked away tears under his left eye. He looked left and right again, seeing no one, moved in a kissed her on the lips.

She lurched her head up to meet his kiss and her free arm was around his neck in record time. Ron's emotions overwhelmed him as he kissed her and began shake with happiness. Hermione's tear soaked cheeks touched his wet face, as her chest began to heave when she started crying. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but served its purpose.

She pushed him away as hear intense sobbing caused her to cough. The noise broke the serious mood as Ron felt horrible and Hermione laughed through uncontrolled coughs of pain.

"O-Ouw! Ass-A-Asshole!" She smacked him gently on the shoulder as he pulled himself away from her face. At last he saw a real smile on her face, one that let him know things would be okay.

The kiss was unplanned, but he needed her to know he loved her. He stood up holding her hand with his. He reached down to kiss her fingers as she smiled and gave him a sweet look. She mouthed 'I love you, Ron,' which made him smile.

"Damn straight woman! I am quite a catch!" He snorted with his best athletic pose. Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes as Ron raised his wand. His patronus jumped to life and ran out of the room.

In moments the rest of their families would be in the room, Ron did his best to savor his last few moments alone with her.

Hermione's mother and father were the first to burst through the green doors, followed by Ginny, Harry and Ron's mother. Two nurses came over as well, checking on Hermione. One of them left after a few minutes, and returned with the lead healer.

Everyone gave Hermione their sincerest wishes which lasted about ten minutes. Hermione never let go of Ron's hand, even while trying to hug her mother she gripped it tight. Finally Harry, Ginny and Ron's mother left, leaving her parents, the doctor and Ron.

There were lots of tears as the witch explained Hermione's injuries, especially the subject of children. She looked at him with tear filled eyes when the witch explained the long road she had ahead of herself and what her recovery would entail. Ron squeezed her hand back, showing his support for her struggle. He would be there for her, no matter what it took.

In time, the witch excused herself, instructing Ron and Hermione's parents they could all sit with her for a bit before returning to one to two visitors at a time. Mrs. Granger told Ron she would stay with her daughter tonight, that he could go home and rest. Reluctantly, the embrace of their hands parted. As Ron stood up, he could see her staring at him. He blew her a kiss, and headed home.

On his way out the door, he heard Hermione begin to whale as her mother comforted her. At that very moment, the sounds of her pain ignited something inside Ron's chest. A burst of energy in his heart. As he cleared the green doors and headed to the waiting area, he swore someone would pay for what they did to her.


	13. Chapter 12: Weasely's Wizard Wheezes

Chapter 12 – Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

Ron shoved out of work two hours early citing personal business, which meant to everyone left in the shop, especially Harry, knew he was off to see Hermione. Ron and Harry were happy to be back on active duty with the Ministry. Harry stayed on leave for two-weeks and used the time to finalize a ton of wedding plans that were stressing Ginny. Ron remained on administrative holiday for another ten days after Harry before returning to an active case load.

Unfortunately for both Ron and Harry, the entire Auror Department was locked in on the magical attack of the muggle Prime Minister. As expected, the attack was too large to be kept quite from the muggle world. The entire United Kingdom was in a state of pure shock at the audacity of an attack. The muggle's were told of Hermione's bravery by the minister, many of whom actually held vigil for her recovery. For obvious reasons, the muggle's were told Hermione was being treated in a secure location.

Normally this would be an exciting time for a young Auror in the department, but Harry and especially Ron were kept so far from anything pertaining to the case there was little point in even coming to work. They were left with minor infractions and the Auror equivalent of busy work. This drove them both mad, but there was no argument they could make to anyone that would allow them work Hermione's case.

Ron seized the opportunity to bail out of work and go see his brother George. Of all Ron's family, he knew George was the only one he could talk to about Hermione. George had a very hard time losing his twin, Fred. The once carefree tandem of wizards they were was lost and replaced by one angry man in its stead. George was much different than when Fred was alive. He went through his own personal hell, began drinking and even let the joke shop fall to shambles for a bit.

For almost 2 years after Fred, George sunk lower and lower. A testament to the spirit of his bloodline, he managed to pull himself out of his own self-destructive ways. The brother Ron saw emerge from the other side of Hell, was different. Better in a sense, but darker, and more realistic. George was never naïve, but something changed during his inward journeys; something that allowed he and Ron to bond rather well. Much of George's recovery came thanks to his relationship with Angelina Johnson, who, oddly enough dated Fred before they left school. Angelina and George grieved together, the loss of Fred, and soon fell in love. She helped George in the joke shop, and brought her own unique magic to the business. Ron's Auror training showed him sides of magic only George could relate to, and now they were very good friends.

Ron made his way through Diagon Alley to the joke shop, finding the store primarily vacant. This was not surprising for a Wednesday. The shop made most of its money on the weekends, and when Hogwart's students were on holiday. Professor McGonagall, having personally taught both Fred and George was fairly tolerant of Weasley products in her school. They certainly weren't banned like during Umbridge's tenure. McGonagall opted instead to punish the students for using Weasley products, as it really made no sense to blame the manufacturer; even if George did implicitly target Hogwart's students as his number one demographic.

Ron walked through the aisles of George's shop, paying little attention to the newest product as there was a decent change he'd already seen them. George had never moved past testing items on his family. He walked behind the counter through a large curtain to find George sitting at his desk mulling over several books in research alone. Apparently Angelina was not in today. George stopped whatever he was reading, took a deep breath a looked up at his younger brother.

"If you are looking for work, I require at least three solid references. Unless you want to push a broom, then I only need two," George opened setting a playful tone.

"Thanks mate," Ron answered while mussing his hair. He sat down next to his older brother moving two large volumes of _Practical Magic for the Practical Wizard _from the chair. George's hottest items were ones rarely seen on the shelves. As a joke, he and Fred began making novelties to defend against the Dark Arts, only to find when Voldemort returned there was an incredible market for them. Defensive potions and anti-deception charms were huge sellers to many in the ministry, to include the Auror's. George had even managed a small Ministry contract to supply them with a variety of Weasley products. Things were going well indeed for him.

Ron reached into the breast pocket of his robe pulling out a small leather pouch and setting it on the desk in front of his brother.

George stopped writing on a piece of parchment, mid-letter, to stare at it.

"Is that it?" he asked his younger sibling. Ron nodded.

George reached for the pouch and carefully let its contents slide out onto the desk. He leaned back in his chair, staring, making careful effort to not touch it. Neither he nor Ron said anything for almost a minute, silently absorbing the sight of the bullet that nearly killed Hermione.

"Took me ages to get that," Ron broke the silence. "I replaced it with another, so I won't get fired."

George put his left hand over his mouth, but did not speak. Ron let his brother think in silence as the two of them sat, staring at the muggle artifact. Times like these really shocked him, in a good way. Of course, Hermione was like family to his brothers, their second sister per say, but when he actually saw how much they cared for her; it was touching.

"How many people have touched this, with their bare hands?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"No idea, mate. Could be loads."

"See that's the real trick. One by one I am going to have to strip off people who have touched it, until I can find the person who used it. This is going to take a lot of time."

"But you can do it, right?" Ron asked.

"Of course I can do it," he said with confidence and a smile. "I will get on it tonight at home, isn't really appropriate here."

Ron nodded and watched as George carefully packed up the muggle bullet and placed it in his pocket.

"Have you thought about what you are going to do when you find him?" George asked while getting up to make some tea.

Ron shook his head, blatantly lying to his brother. George seemed to see the deception and smiled as he filled a kettle with water. They talked over tea about everything but Hermione, and even had a few laughs. Ron relished the time he could spend with George, and was ever thankful for him. George was after all helping him hunt Hermione's attacker.

* * *

Ron stepped out of the joke shop, and stood for a moment on the stoop. Gazing up at the sky, as if to check the weather, he pulled his robes tighter around his frame. Looking back to eye level, his peripheral vision caught the movement he had seen on his way in. Someone was following him, and now was the time to find out whom.

Ron stepped off the stoop and headed up Diagon Alley at a brisk pace. Glancing at the reflections in store windows as he passed confirmed he was being followed by one man. Dressed in a dark cloak, with the hood hiding his face the stalker stayed a good twenty meters behind him. Ron pushed on through the crowd.

Ron kept a steady pace up Diagon Alley, until an opportunity presented itself down one of the side alleys connecting alongside Flourish and Blots. He slipped down the darkened alley, and made sure to draw his wand. Before his stalker could follow Ron performed a disillusionment charm rendering him invisible.

Disillusionment Charms don't actually make the target invisible rather it makes them blend in with their surroundings. Ron quickly put his back to the alley wall, and held perfectly still just as his stalker entered.

Ron didn't breath as the man walked right past him. He concealed his face well, because even at less than a meters distance Ron still couldn't see his face. The man walked past Ron, to the end of the alley, drew his wand and walked off the right out of Ron's line of sight.

Ron cursed to himself, and began to follow. As he reached the intersection in the wet alley, he looked left and then right, and saw nothing. The man had vanished. With his wand still at the ready, Ron appraised his surroundings, listening, smelling, reading everything the scene was telling him. At last, without any good information, he stepped slowly in the direction the man had gone.

Making no sound, he traversed the alley, looking for any signs of life. He saw none. Everywhere he looked, his wand pointed, ready to curse, or defend if needed. His senses pinged, as a voice came from the last place he expected. Behind him.

"Weasley," a deep voice croaked.

Ron spun and fired without thinking, a sharp curse right to the cloaked mans chest. The man's wand was out, and he blocked the curse with little effort. Holding up both hands in protest, the man tugged at his hood, revealing white blonde hair.

"Fucking Malfoy," Ron gasped, "Are you mental?"

"Wait," Draco pleaded, "I am here to talk. I just needed to get you someplace quiet, keep your voice down. MUFFLIATO!" Draco snapped his wand, ensuring their conversation would remain private. Ron raised his wand a little higher, pointing it directly at Malfoy's face.

"Weasley for fucks sake, calm down." Malfoy said with a hint of his old arrogance. "I am here because of Granger."

Surely Draco said this to calm Ron down, but the effect was opposite and only made Ron want to fight even more.

"What do you want?" Ron sneered.

"I have things to say, but not out in the open. As a token of faith, and trust,--"

"Trust? Ha! As if!" Ron retorted, laughing still pointing his wand at Malfoy.

"I have intelligence for you Weasley, Granger said I needed to give it to you, and you alone. And as I said, out of trust, I want you to put a disillusionment charm on yourself. I am putting my wand away." As Draco spoke, he did exactly that, tucking his wand in his robes, leaving him defenseless.

"Wha?"

"You can't still be that thick Weasley, you cast the charm on yourself, and aside from the fact my wand is away, you will have even more of a tactical advantage as I will not be able to see where you are. Once you do yours, I will draw my wand and put the same charm on myself. This will give us the opportunity to speak without anyone seeing. Do you agree?" Malfoy still hid in the shadows, and his hood was up ninety percent of the way. If anyone did see them, it would be a slim chance anyone would recognize Malfoy.

"Whatever," Ron said, flicking his wand to cast the charm. As soon as it took hold, and was invisible he took three silent steps to his right, ensuring he did not remain where Draco, or anyone, saw him last standing.

Draco responded in turn, casting the disillusionment charm on himself. It was a rather odd scene, Ron thought, two grown wizards, standing in an alley completely invisible.

"Can you hear me, Weasley?" Draco asked, from somewhere to Ron's right.

"Aye," Ron said softly, still gripping his wand.

"I have some questions," Draco continued, "If you cannot or will not answer, please remain silent, everything else, just answer yes or no."

Ron did not speak, but so far, Draco's terms were acceptable.

"First, is Granger going to survive?" This question caught Ron off guard, it was the last thing he ever expected Draco to ask.

"Yes, we think so."

"Yes or no! I do not require details, its safer for us all, if I don't."

Ron wasn't sure what he was getting at, but with a firm grip on his wand, he decided to play along for the time being.

"Are you tracking those responsible?" Draco continued.

Ron took a moment to answer, unsure how to respond. After a moments hesitation, he said "Yes."

"Officially sanctioned Auror business?"

"No," Ron admitted to the darkness.

"Does the ministry know who is responsible, again yes, or no, please."

"No." It was the most truthful answer Ron could give. Many suspects, yes, but a definable lead, no.

"Granger asked to do some Recon before all this happened. I gave her all of the information I came across, but she never told me what she did with it. I asked, on more than one occasion, to be able to investigate further. She denied my request. Do you know what she knows?"

"No," Ron said with a defeated tone. It was true, there was a strong chance Draco knew more about this than anyone at the Ministry.

"If I told you, I had a line into this organization, would you be interested in hearing it?"

"Yes."

"Granger said she did not have the authority to protect me if I got involved. Do you agree with her statement?"

"Yes."

"If an undercover operation were to be planned, would you, an Auror have the authority to protect me? I would not survive another legislative inquiry into my actions, without backup, Weasley. Would you be able to protect me?"

Ron did not answer, which Draco caught onto almost immediately.

"You are unable to protect me, or you are unwilling to protect me."

"Yes, and then no," Ron added in clarification. He wasn't sure if he could protect him, but he certainly wasn't unwilling to try. Draco didn't speak again, it was Ron who broke the silence. "Malfoy, I am done with this cryptic shit. I will take my chances. If you are asking me for Ministry permission to go undercover, I don't have the authority."

"Is it true, Auror's are allowed to investigate as they see fit?"

"Yes, but I am off this case, I can have no part in investigating any of it."

"Perhaps another angle then, Weasley. What if I were to tell you, that my Aunt Bellatrix's portrait had gone missing after her death. My mother was forced to contract a replacement, which she, Bellatrix now travels freely between."

"I am listening," Ron was beginning to get the idea.

"She is up to something, and I think I can get her to give me an opportunity to redeem myself for my failure with the Dark Lord. It's an act I have been working for months, and she's buying it."

"I would say I would be very interested in knowing what the portrait of Bellatrix Lestrange is up to."

"Do I have permission then, to engage in undercover activities to investigate her, and whatever she is doing?" Draco whispered, from a new place in the alley, he too was adjusting his position.

"Malfoy," Ron asked, just audible above a whisper. "What do you want? In return? I find it hard to believe you are doing this out of a sense of duty."

"I want a pardon, Weasley," Malfoy's voice broke, and even though invisible, Ron could tell he was struggling to maintain his composure. "Yes, a pardon. From the Ministry. Not clearing or exonerating me of any past wrong doing, but erasing my past. Much like a convicted murderer would get if he was terminally ill. No admission of innocence, just a clean wipe of my record. This would give me permission, to vote, to be appointed to any board of trustees who might have me, to gain lawful employment, and most of all, to marry."

"To marry?" Ron questioned. "Really? Is that what this is about? If I am going to put my neck on the line for you Draco, I need you to give me something in return. Something," Ron struggled for the right word, "valuable."

Draco did not hesitate. "Her name is Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass. She's a frail thing Weasley, but she loves me, and that, as you say, is my reason for doing this."

"May I investigate her then? To confirm what you are saying?"

"You may, but she knows nothing of my past, and I would ask that you not tell her."

"How can you expect to keep that a secret, Draco?"

"I don't," Malfoy admitted honestly. "I just haven't found the right time to mention it."

Ron took a moment to consider what Draco was asking. "Alright, do you have permission to investigate what we discussed? Yes, you do. By my authority given by Minister Shacklebolt, I Ronald Weasley authorize this activity, and will make a note in my personal log indicating the date and time of our agreement." Ron paused trying to remember each of the official things he needed to say to make this legal. "You are not a law enforcement wizard, therefore you are not entitled to break any laws in the pursuit of this investigation. I want weekly reports, directly to me, by owl or patronus. All expenses must be documented, with receipts and claimed through me directly. Are we clear?"

"Yes," Draco answered.

"Do not fuck me Malfoy, if I think for one second you are jerking me around, I will come and arrest you right in front of Miss Pruett, without the slightest hesitation. Do you understand?"

Malfoy said nothing, but Ron assumed he was nodding.

"One last thing," Draco added, "If there is a confrontation, I will be positioning myself as close as I can to whomever is the leader. My codeword, will be Mudblood, which I will use in reference to Granger. That will be your cue, please do me a favor and prevent her, or anyone else from cursing me for that comment."

"Understood." Ron smiled, as if he could stop Hermione. "How much time to do you need to get into position?"

There was a loud crack, of Malfoy disapperating, leaving Ron alone, and invisible in the alley. "Apparently, not much."

Ron raised his wan to disapparate himself, with a weird smirk he flicked his want to a loud crack.


	14. Chapter 13: Home Sweet Home

Chapter 13 – Home Sweet Home.

The Burrow never looked as good to Hermione's eyes as it filled the front window of her parents sport utility vehicle. The longest two months of her life now behind her, she looked forward to more recovery and relaxation someplace not quite as sterile as St. Mungo's. Hermione's wounds were still on the mend, compliments of whatever jinks her attacker placed on the bullets to prevent healing. She bore the marks of fresh bandages, some still seeping pink ooze which she kept carefully concealed under her maroon hoodie.

The scene outside the Weasley home was a right mess as Hermione began to see banners and assorted decorations anticipating her arrival. Hermione hid a faint smile as her father caught a glimpse of her in the rear view mirror. Molly almost insisted Hermione and her folks stay at the Burrow until she was completely healed. Her and Ginny's apartment, though very nice, hadn't the room for such an extended stay. With all of the Weasley children out of the nest, Arthur and Molly were excited to have house guests again.

Hermione's father pulled the black SUV up to the front gate kicking up a cloud of tan dust from the dirt road. He made sure his only daughter could step right out into the garden, and before Hermione could even unfasten her lap restraint there were ten pairs of hands offering to help her. Her bags were ripped from the back hatch and whisked away out of sight, while Arthur and George helped Hermione out of the back seat.

The walk to the front door was slow, but steady and everyone wore a smile from ear to ear. Within a few minutes Hermione was seated on several pillows at the kitchen table, next to her mother and Ginny. Her father, and Arthur stood on opposite sides of the fireplace discussing the origins and purpose's for turn signals. Harry and Ron stood by the front entrance taking turns pushing Victorie into one another, a game the four year old enjoyed immensely. Molly and Fleur wanded up refreshments for everyone in the kitchen and Bill and George wrestled each other down the stairs returning from placing Hermione's bags in Ginny's old room.

The decorations made for a nice touch, compliments of George and Angelina, and Hermione felt her spirits rise to an all time high after just a few minutes inundation from so much family. Out of the corner of her eye she sensed Ron staring at her from the corner of his. Hermione did her best to hide her smile, but did feel her cheeks warm a little.

She and Ron hadn't talked about their relationship since the day she woke up and he promised they would resolve things another time. His support during her recovery was without a doubt her best medicine. Deep inside the catacombs of her heart, nestled right next to her soul; she nurtured the hope that one day they would be a couple again. She savored the kiss they shared as if it was only seconds old. Ron was not the type to give someone, especially her, false hope. When he said they would work out their issues, she believed him. Though attempts on her part to address their relationship since their kiss were shut down immediately by Ron.

Hermione's attitude since the accident was seriously out of character for her, and she knew it. Somehow, the world seemed different to her eyes; it was brighter and more in focus. She spent so much time over the last two years working, she completely forgot to live her life, and to enjoy it.

Sitting at the kitchen table, listening to everyone laugh, she realized how much she missed everyone. Tuesday nights at the muggle pub, a Ron and Harry tradition, getting pissed and telling lies seemed so important to her now. Ginny's quidditch matches, lunches with Luna and Neville, visiting Hagrid at Hogwart's. These people were her family, and had been for years. Her parents accepted Hermione choosing to reside in the magical world, but now it was up to Hermione to not live in isolation from either lifestyle.

The party in the kitchen spilled over into the garden as the sun made for an uncharacteristically warm day. When no one was watching, Hermione made her way outside to watch the boys and Ginny engage in two on four quidditch. Ginny and Harry versus the Weasley brothers and Angelina. It was not a fair fight, Harry and Ginny flew circles around the boys. Hermione's parents watched the match completely awestruck; Hermione kept forgetting they were not used to the stuff she took as normal.

As the game wound down and all feet found their way back to solid ground different people took turns talking with Hermione. The questions were the same, only worded differently, all concerned for her health in the most genuine of ways. Fleur and Victorie spent the longest time talking with her, as poor Victorie seemed determined to crawl into Hermione's lap regardless of how much her mother restrained her.

Molly and Hermione's mum departed the group for a stroll around the Burrow while Arthur and her father went missing into the barn.

Hermione loved be a part of this family, and she loved seeing her parents interact with them. They were always so excepting of each other; anxious to learn the others point of view in the world.

Hermione decided to retire after a few hours of fun. As she walked inside, she noticed Ron and George having a rather heated, although whispered conversation in the kitchen. Something in her gut told her to eavesdrop on the conversation, but another part of her argued against it, citing an invasion of Ron's privacy.

After a thousand labored steps, she found herself standing outside the door of Ginny's old room. Pushing the door open, she saw the bed, and before she knew it, her head was on the pillow drifting rapidly towards a cloudy world of dreams.

* * *

Unsure if still locked in a dream on fixed into reality, Hermione pealed open her eyes in response to a bright light interrupting her slumber. She blinked several times, to see a large white blob come into focus on the floor by her bed.

After a few seconds focus, her brain determined it was a patronus; one of a glowing white jaguar purring by her shoes. It stared at her.

In all the excitement, Hermione fell asleep full clothed with her want in her pocket. There would be no way to grab it without moving considerably. She raised her head off the pillow causing the patronus cat to lift its head towards hers. As she lifted herself up onto her arms, the patronus spoke, in a voice she knew all to well.

"Diagon Alley, now."

Hermione slid out of bed immediately, and stepped into her shoes. If she thought for a second she could make it down the steps in less than ten minutes she would have left the Burrow before Disapporating.

Since this was not an option, she raised her wand, and with a crack, was gone.

Diagon Alley was deserted, as she stepped into it. Her legs were shaky, and she had a hard time standing. The doctor's assured her the pain would diminish, and each day her strength returned a bit more. Nevertheless, she was nervous, and therefore a little uneasy on her feet.

She hadn't moved ten feet, when the voice of the cat patronus spoke from a nearby side alley within Diagon Alley.

"He has six wizards." The voice said.

Hermione stared straight down Diagon Alley, not looking towards the direction of the voice.

"You found him," she whispered softly. "What are you doing so close, I said reconnaissance only, Draco!"

"Weasley authorized the operation, but do not tell him that you know this. I will make my report to him as soon as we are done here. I haven't much time."

"Go on then," Hermione bit her lip, refusing to become angry at Ron for doing exactly what she told him.

"None are under the Imperius Curse as you suspected, all are loyal," Draco answered.

Hermione tightened the grip on her wand, wondering if she was in any condition to fight. "He remains unprotected, but I have no idea where. Everyone uses portkeys."

"I need to know who and where," she demanded. "I need to know how I can stop him."

"He plots against you all. I am sorry. There is no time, I am being watched," the voice grunted before a loud crack, and then silence.

Hermione waited almost a full minute before Disapporating back to the Burrow. She wasn't able to appear in Ginny's room, only in the garden. As she walked through the gate she saw George appear in the front drive with a loud crack. He walked up to Hermione with a disturbed look on his face.

"W-What are you doing here at this hour George?" she asked with a slight gasp as George looked really upset.

"I-I came to see you, actually," he replied unable to look her in the face. "I think, we are in trouble. I think I fucked up."

Storm clouds rolled in under the nights sky as George explained everything to Hermione. She listened silently, not judging or condescending him in any way. George told her what he had done, how he just returned from number twelve Gimmould place, and relayed his disturbing conversation with Harry.

"What did Harry do?" she asked.

"He went after him, of course." George replied.

* * *

Ron put his hands on his knees gasping for air, letting the blood drip from his forehead onto the cobblestone road. No matter how hard he tried he could not get his heart rate or breathing under control. He looked down at his watch, and noticed the time. Nineteen minutes.

Nineteen minutes was all it took him. Nineteen minutes to do the unthinkable. Nineteen minutes to beat Harry Potter.

He looked up, and saw his best friend of over ten years lying on his back, breathing just as heavy as Ron. Harry's hand, tightly gripping his wand; the red sparkles of the defeating curse still lingering on his chest. From five meters away Ron stared, still gasping for air. He watched as his best friend sat up, grunting as his stomach muscles disapproved.

Harry adjusted his circular glasses and looked at Ron. "I guess that determines who's better Ron," Harry let out with a tone of defeat.

"No, we will never know." Ron said reassuringly, though not taking his wand off Harry. "I just wanted it more."

"I-I can't let you do this," Harry gasped, rubbing his chest. "I know who you are tracking, I know what you plan to do."

"I know, mate," Ron conceded while standing. "You are my best mate and I love you like a brother, but I have to do this."

"Ron wait! You can't—"

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Ron shouted, knocking the wand from Harry's right hand. With a crack of pain, the last link Harry held to Albus Dumbledore, and to the elder wand slipped from him fingers. Harry heard Ron call for his wand and watched it leap off the road towards his outstretched hand.

Harry was dumbfounded. Never in a million years did he expect his best mate to be the one who disarmed him, taking control of the elder wand. Dumbledore's wand.

"The key is set, I just have to wait." Ron said turning away from Harry. "I can't have you trying to stop me, mate. I'm sorry."

Ron took Harry's wand and smacked it with his like swinging a golf club. A flash of green light illuminated the street as he sent Harry wand flying into the cloud covered sky over a building. It would take Harry hours to find the wand, and call for help or come to try and stop him.

That gave him all the time he needed for revenge.

* * *

Outside the flat of a muggle, in London, Ron waited. The trap was set, as he was just inside the man's house. All he needed to do was wait to spring it.

All this time, he plotted; for this day. All this time, he fooled everyone. Smiling and nodding, acting okay and in control. No one ever suspected him. No one ever suspected he would react the way he did. This angered him.

No one ever expected him to truly love Hermione? No expected him to want vengeance from those who hurt her. Those who ensured she might never have children. Those who nearly took her away from him forever.

Ron snapped the distracting thoughts from his mind, as he waited in the shadows. He was invisible, yet not wearing a cloak. He was silent, though he cast no spells to conceal his movements.

He was hunting.

* * *

Edmond appeared from swirling darkness slamming hard into the ground, his fingers still gripping the keys to his auto. With a thud, air forced its way from his chest as his consciousness drifted into an incoherent state. His eyes slipped a few pain filled tears as he blinked and tried to focus. Lying on his back, he stared up; his unclear mind slowly discerning stars peaking through faint clouds in the nighttime sky overhead.

Underneath him he felt moisture as the back sides of his clothing began to soak. Still stunned, his body appreciated grass and mud breaking his fall. _Fall? Fall from where?_ Not one minute ago he was standing in the front hallway of his flat in London. He was departing for an evening business meeting his boss ordered him to proctor. Now he was here, the problem was he didn't know where here, was.

Cycling through bones and joints he moved each limb in turn testing for pain and possible fractures. Nothing seemed terribly injured aside from the overall pain the impact caused his body. Edmond twisted his head to the left, which confirmed he was lying in grass outside, but he still did not know where he was. He strained to see right seeing nothing but more grass.

His mind processed a thousand scenarios trying to explain how he ended up here. Unfortunately for him, and his nerves the only plausible explanations were related to magic. His mind seemed caught in mud for a split second as he seemed unconcerned; eventually logic took over causing him to panic.

With a lurch he sat up as quickly as he could causing his still aching body to shoot impulses of disapproval. His vision fogged briefly as blood rushed out of his head, but not so much to cause him to miss the latest stunning development. Where ever Edmond was, he was not alone.

Before him, a tall man wearing a long black robe stood with his arms behind his back. The moonlight cast a pinkish look of his red hair as he stared at the ground.

"Get up," Ron Weasley grunted to Edmond ordering him to move.

Edmond didn't move at first. He was pretty sure he knew who the wizard was, because of the red hair, but he couldn't remember his name. He was one of their targets during the botched raid two months earlier. Edmond did recall this was one of the stronger of the lot they went after, but his identity escaped him.

"Get!" Ron repeated with more venom in his voice. "Up!"

Edmond nodded deciding finally to stand and gingerly got to his feet. He attempted to collect himself and searched for the words to open negotiations.

"My name is Edmond Winchester," he started but was not allowed to finish. The wizard pulled his right arm from behind his back raising the wand he gripped. There was a flash of white light from its end that sent Edmond hurling backwards slamming into something hard. It took a moment for his head to clear, whatever the wizard did held extreme pressure on his chest, pinning him to the hard, vertical surface.

"I do not care." Ron said with the same grunt, still holding his wand upright to continue the constrictor spell.

Edmond realized he was being pinned against a large oak tree. Looking up he saw no branches or limbs, only the remainder of the gray-like trunk stopping about four meters above his head. The tree itself was about two meters thick; he could feel knots and remains of limb stumps jabbing him in the back and legs.

Ron released the spell, but just as Edmond relaxed he flicked his wand again. The oak he leaned against began to shift and come alive. Its bark adapted into a gelatin state sucking his arms and feet in. It didn't move his lower legs, but did adjust his hands so that they were now behind him. Ron dropped his elevated wand while the trunks liquid bark solidified locking Edmond into a restrained position.

Edmond screamed for help, but knew no one could hear him.


	15. Chapter 14: The Reckoning

Chapter 14 – The Reckoning

The wizard moved into Serahn's headquarters without a sound, though not invisible. There sitting at an extravagant brown cherry desk sat his master, the one who promised to restore his name to that of power and prestige. His master was not happy currently, his failure with the mud-blood though months old, still fresh.

He did not fear the wand of his master, but did fear the wrath. Serahn was connected enough and certainly powerful enough to give him back everything he was missing from his life. Serahn did not look up to see the wizard, but knew he was there. He took his place at the head of Serahn's desk crossing his arms at the hands in front of him. He wore black robes with purple trim, his wand tucked nicely up his left sleeve. Standing tall he waited patiently to be addressed. After a few minutes, Serahn looked up at him.

"Report."

"Master," the wizard said with a bow of his head. "All weapons are delivered, we have confirmed the transaction of funds. The exchange went off without any issues."

"Our Supplier?"

"Still under the curse, and at your disposal," the wizard replied.

The wizard relayed several details of the most recent arms sale, and gave his opinions on the overall effectiveness on their new plan. For most of which, Serahn was quite receptive, after all it was his money they were risking. The wizard took a deep breath before addressing a more sensitive issue.

"Master, what does the portrait command?" he asked.

Serahn's face did not flinch at the question, but the wizard did not show any disapproval to such a direct question. Serahn smiled leaning back in his executive's chair.

"She demands the blood of them all, which is nothing new."

"Are we to engage then?"

"Yes, we are. Only this time we are going to do things a bit differently, since I was unable to beat even the mud-blood last time."

"That was a mistake," the blonde wizard interrupted. "You would have had her if Potter and Weasley hadn't shown up. You can beat her, I know it. I can beat her too."

"Yet she bested all three of us in less than a minute. I will not make that mistake again."

"Forgive me master, I underestimated her skill. Please allow me the opportunity to redeem myself."

"Perhaps," Serahn smiled. "I suppose you have a plan?"

"I do Master," Draco Malfoy smiled. "I can kill the mud-blood and the youngest Weasley child at their home now that Granger is released from the hospital. She is still very weak at best, and provided I don't let the Weasley girl get on her broom, it will not be hard to beat her either. She is not a dueler."

"And the rest of Bellatrix's targets," Serahn asked.

"Can be taken by force once we eliminate the Auror's," the wizard smiled with confidence. "We have six wizards left including you and I. If we can pick our fight, no two wizards can stop six of the Dark Arts. Not by a long shot. They won't have a chance."

"We must hold our course for a while longer my friend, until we can acquire the two package's requested by our friends in the States. Then, I assure you, you will have your chance to end them all."

Serahn asked several questions interrogating Draco's plan, and for the most part it was sound. Bellatrix demanded revenge for her death, but in reality the timing of her demands was less than practical.

There were too many deals in the works to be gaffing off with revenge issues. The attack on the Prime Minister had an unforeseen positive effect on business and they were now struggling to meet the demands. Between the Middle East and the Far East, everyone wanted Serahn to smuggle something.

Serahn had amassed almost a billion pounds in guaranteed money since the attack. These were people like him, counting on him to hold up his end and deliver as promised. Most of the deals were in transport and acquisition of weapons or drugs. He was having increasing difficulty getting the products he promised to their locations on time. This was causing him stress. Every action was a stressful plan, one that needed his constant attention.

Flying cocaine out of Colombia in South America was easy, as most of it went to the United States. Simple storage charms and spells to distract customs and security were handled by a witch in her twenties who spoke fluent Spanish. She operated exclusively out of Havana, Cuba and reported directly to Serahn. This kept her off the customs radar of the States and as long as the drugs came nowhere near Europe, Interpol steered clear.

Moving Opium from the Philippine's was a tad more challenging as the Asian authorities are much more strict on narcotic trafficking. His biggest market was Japan, and from Japan he could slip in through US customs by way of Hawaii. After that it was too easy. America's Department of Homeland Security may have an impressive name, but their skills and effectiveness was not even close.

Weapons to the United States or to the insurgents other countries was the real challenge. His storage charms and bogus paperwork had to be fantastic. Most of the legwork for travel was done by Thomas Howard Incorporated, which dedicated three executive departments to support Serahn. Still every delivery was a challenge especially in war torn countries. He used the military medical aircraft for most of his smuggling efforts. They routinely ran over ten flights a day evacuating wounded or returning soldiers to combat. Getting the weapons on the planes was sticky, lots of service members to distract. Once landed, all that was needed was to unload and find the appropriate national worker to transport off the base and distribute as needed.

There were so many cells operating throughout the world, it was impossible to track, and made it very difficult to plan. All were preparing for an eventual attack on the heart of the western world, but so far that was about all Serahn could figure out. Their request for nuclear weapons was being worked on, by half of Serahn's staff, he hoped by the end of the year they would be able to arrange a sale.

All in all this global war made him incredibly rich, he just needed to ensure he figured out when there was going to be an attack so he could be very far from ground zero when it happened.

A/N Much of this scene was edited out, due to extreme violence. I am sorry if it seems out of place.

His body slumped forward, realizing the wizard had released him. Again spit and snot dripped from his nose and mouth, and again there was no damage to his flesh. The wizard moved off again through his circle around the tree that was Edmonds prison. Edmond watched as he walked, and with every step his heart rate increased threatening to jump out of his chest.

Edmond lost sight of the wizard again as panic moved in for good. He struggled and fought against the bark holding his hands which ripped his forearms the more he struggled. He was not able to stand anymore, as he didn't have the strength to pull himself up. As the wizard appeared from his right again, Edmond realized he was broken and would tell him anything.

"P-Please, d-don't do that again, I'll tell you whatever you wanna know. I'll tell you anything!" Edmond cried more than he screamed.

"I already know everything," Ron replied calmly.

"T-Then why?"

Ron smiled, stopping one step from the casting point of his circle. His face turned to look at Edmonds as their eyes met.

"Why not?" Ron took an exaggerated single step to the start of the circle, now muddied and trampled from his multiple revolutions. Edmond screamed before the yellow bolt shot from Ron's wand encompassing Edmonds entire body in an amber gel.

Ron walked again, and with each step he took, followed by muffled scream of agony. He moved in deliberate steps, even humming a tune in his head coinciding his steps with the beat of the song. As Ron danced around the circle, Edmonds screamed in pure horror.

Edmond raised his head but could barely see the wizard standing back at the start of the circle. He looked around, but there was no one coming, no help for him. The wizard moved again orbiting the tree.

"W-What did I ever do to you?" Edmond cried, dropping his head to his chest and sobbing.

That question stopped the wizard in his tracks. Edmonds sobs halted as he strained to see what the wizard was doing. The question he just asked, obviously upset him.

"You tried to kill someone," Ron whispered. "Someone I –"

The wizard didn't finish the sentence, opting instead to continue walking around the circle. Rain started to fall, first in a light drizzle before erupting into a downpour. Edmond remained slumped forward, imprisoned by a bewitched tree. Panic and fear overtook him immediately and he tried desperately to prepare himself for whatever was coming when the wizard returned to the patch of muddy grass four meters in front of him. All he could do was cry. His imagination, once his friend, now his worst enemy destroying him from the inside out.

Four steps, Edmond swallowed quickly twice as the wizard approached searching left and right for anyone to help. Three steps, he fought his restraints surrendering his hands to the tree if he could find the strength to rip his arms from them. Two steps, he screamed and begged for death. One step, all he could do was cry and repeatedly beg, "Stop!"

There was a whoosh of fresh air as he slumped forward again. He wasn't sure what was just causing him all the pain, all he know for certain was that the scorpions made of fire no longer had their stingers in him, and he was pretty certain the dragon was also gone.

Ron walked again, Edmond could not take his eyes off him. From a slumped forward position, his head tracked left as the wizard walked out of his line of sight. Certain he could not longer see him, his snapped his neck right, and waited. The rain came down like a flood, as his heart would surely jump from his ribs at any moment.

He heard the splashing steps before he saw the wizard emerge; soaked to the bone, his cigar long gone. Edmond turned his head, still following Ron and was shocked when the wizard stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at him for a moment, wondering if finally he would be killed and put and end to his suffering.

After a few seconds of confusion, staring at the wizard, he followed his gaze back around the circle. Standing at the apex of the circle, in several inches of water stood a slender woman, her hand gripped tightly around her wand. Suddenly, Edmond realized the reason for all of his pain.

The mud-blood had arrived.

Drenched to the bone, Hermione stared in bewilderment at a scene she could not fathom. Her ex-boyfriend torturing a muggle. Bewitched to a tree the man couldn't even stand, and the look on Ron's face was a mix between pure shock and embarrassment.

Hermione before her accident, would already be into round two of a verbal bashing on Ron, but for some reason she did not speak. Her face, broadcast no sign of anger or disappointment, nor any sign of approval. She was shocked, but for some reason her mind told her to act and speak carefully or all would be lost forever.

This was not Ron, this was not her best friend and the love of her life. Something had happened, something she didn't appreciate or see coming. Hermione found herself puzzled as for what to do, a new development in her dealings with Ron.

He had been so wonderful to her since she was hurt, she must have completely missed his torment during the months of her recovery. She was very angry at herself, for not seeing or appreciating his pain.

"I was wondering if you would find me," Ron admitted softly, barely audible over the downpour.

Hermione squinted her eyes trying to shield them from the giant splattering raindrops as she moved closer to him. Ron's head was down in shame, and he refused to make eye contact with her. She didn't know what to say.

"Ronald," she attempted. "Who is this?"

"The one who hurt you," he sighed.

Hermione began to understand. The muggle who shot cursed bullets at her. The muggle who might have ensured she will never be a mother. The muggle who nearly took her from this world, forever.

She held no anger for him, as he slumped forward from the tree stump. He looked pretty pathetic to her actually, sobbing in the rain.

"This is not your way Ronald," she spoke turning back to face him. "This is not who you are!"

Ron laughed, causing Hermione to take a step back in shock. "Not who I am? You are the last person who should be giving advice on who I am!"

Hermione knew she just blew it. The conversation changed immediately from soft, to angry, and Ron was now yelling at her.

"He tried to take everything from me!" Ron screamed at her, pointing his finger at Edmond.

"Yes, but he failed," she responded quickly. "So in the name of revenge, you are going to throw away everyone else you love?"

Ron turned to face Hermione again, looking confused.

"Yes, Ronald! How long did you think it would stay secret! You and Harry! Everyone you love is with him right now! Standing against you!"

"W-What?" Ron asked with a childish face. "I-I didn't hurt him," he pleaded.

"No, but you did disarm him! He's got Dumbledore's Army, which includes half of your family at Hogwart's to protect the elder wand! Everyone you love is waiting to attack you, when you come for it!"

"Elder wand? I have no desire for –"

"No? Well, they sure think you do! George told us about the bullet, about how long you have been tracking him, and about your state of mind. They think you are falling! Your family, your mother are all destroyed fearing you are falling to the Dark Arts! Now, I find you here, giving your best impression of Bellatrix."

"CRUCIO!" Ron screamed, pointing his wand at Edmond. The red spell hit him square in the chest causing every muscle to contract in pain standing him upright.

"Ronald!" Hermione screamed moving towards him

He didn't hear her, holding his sinister gaze and the Cruciatus Curse on Edmond.

"RON!"

He released the spell and blinked to see Hermione standing next to him. Her lower lip extended in a pout, and her chest heaving as she breathed. The rain on her face obscured her tears.

"That," he grunted, "was my impression of Bellatrix."

Hermione stared up at him in disgust. Breathing heavy and shaking her head slightly. She looked over at Edmond, who returned to his slumped forward stance from the tree. She couldn't believe Ron just did that in front of her. She looked back up at him, her exhales turning to high pitched cries. With a swift snap, she smacked him across the check as hard as she could swing.

Ron's head snapped to his right, and as he looked back at her, blood began to trickle from his left nostril and the left side of his mouth. Hermione continued to breathe as heavily as ever.

"FUCK," she exhaled raising a shaking finger to his face, "YOU!"

Ron stared at her, holding his face where she slapped him. He had never heard her curse like that, and seemed to realize he was in big trouble with her. His resolve didn't falter though, his conscience demanded revenge.

"I-I don't even know who you are anymore, Ron," she said softly through tears of disappointment.

"Which is why we are not together, Hermione," Ron added with spite to hurt her.

It worked, she slapped him again, harder than the first time. Again Ron stepped back recoiling from the attack.

"Bloody He—" Ron started but was cut off by another slap to the face. "Fuck! I demand justice for what he did to you Hermione!" Ron was screaming now, moving into to stare down his ex-girlfriend.

"If justice is so important, Ronald, why are you doing it in private?" Hermione seemed to gain an ounce of composure extending both of her arms sharply forward to push Ron backwards. Slapping him hadn't hurt her physically, aside from her hand, but the effort to move his frame backwards sent a twinge through her injuries. She doubled over slightly, in pain, holding her lower stomach.

She moved away from him, towards the tree and with a snap of her wand, Edmond dropped to the mud released from his prison. She heard Ron swear from behind her and turned to see him shuffling through the mud and water towards Edmond.

Hermione cut of his approach causing Ron to stop.

"Move, Hermione," he said.

The soaked Hermione didn't budge, and when Ron raised his wand to her in her general direction she seemed to understand at last what he was going through. In a sick and twisted sort of way, his actions towards Edmond were statements of love about Hermione. A very small part of her heart swelled at the gesture, however misguided. Her anger fell from her mind, never to return. Extending her arms outward, exposing her chest to him, she smiled.

"Are you going to attack me, Ronald?"

Her tone was soft, and gentle, obviously her smile confused him. Ron stood stunned for a moment before his breathing intensified as his emotions took hold.

"Aim for my heart, my love. It's the only part of me you have the power to break."

Ron held his wand up, with Hermione in the way, pointing at Edmond laying face down in the mud. He looked confused, and distraught.

"I-I have to –" he whispered.

"No, you don't." Hermione responded.

"He-He --,"

"But he didn't, Ron. I am here."

Ron turned his back to Hermione running his hands through his hair in a spastic move of frustration. She could hear him crying, and talking to himself, but she couldn't quite make out what he was saying.

Hermione lowered her arms, and didn't expect him to turn around so quickly. Ron spun leading with his wand sending panic through her skin.

She felt her feet slide in the mud as Ron's first spell pulled her out of the way causing her to fall to her knees. She slipped and scampered in the mud trying to get her wand up as fast as she could. Ron raised his wand in a circle over his head like a lasso, his eyes burning with hate. Just as he snapped it forward, she freed her wand-hand from the mud.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Ron screamed shooting at Edmond.

"VIKASI!" Hermione bellowed almost simultaneously. From ninety degrees to his right her spell raced towards his. She was still on her knees when the two spells collided, protected from the shock-wave. Ron was not prepared for the reaction, which flipped him onto his back with a splash of mud and pride.

Hey lay on his back coughing as Hermione struggled to get to her feet. She regained her position between him and Edmond, before walking towards Ron.

Ron looked up at her in complete shock; his face confused and unable to comprehend.

"What the hell?" he gasped.

"Oh, this really powerful Auror I used to know taught me how to block a killing curse," she belted with sass. Drawing attention away from her wand, pointed directly at him. "Pretty smart chap actually seeing as I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for his brilliance. Took me a bit to see it though, have been accused of being a tad stubborn in my youth."

Ron worked his way through the mud, negotiating to his feet. His face still confused and lost.

"It was Vaksai, I thought," he muttered.

"Oh, the translation was off, but you were on the right track with it. I just helped," she smiled again at him, almost flirting.

Ron seemed to realize what he had just done, and dropped to his knees with a slush of mud. Hermione inched closer to him, moving delicately.

"I just tried to kill him, I wanted to kill him," Ron mumbled through tears of shame.

"Yes, but you didn't Ronald. You didn't."

"Only because of you." Ron slumped forward dropping his hands into the mud and grass, heaving as if he was about to be sick.

"That's because we are a team, Ronald Weasley. You and me, a damn fine team. We work together best, we compliment each other. Isn't that what your speech on my roof was about?"

Ron nodded, but didn't speak. Hermione talked to him for several more minutes, trying to convince him things were better now that she was hurt. Ron had always been his own worst critic, and there was no punishment anyone could impose that compared to the ones he placed on himself.

Hermione showing him she did listen and did have faith in him was overwhelming. He couldn't get a grip on his spinning mind and heart. Hermione reached down and placed a hand on his shoulder; Ron looked up to meet her gaze.

"You mentioned something about revenge, earlier?" she smiled causing Ron to nod in agreement. "His bosses name is Serahn, he's the one who got away that night on the bridge. He's the heavy hitter working for the muggle Thomas Howard; Draco just told me tonight."

Ron stood at the mention of Draco and felt his anger rise when he realized he hadn't told her about his mission.

"The painting of Dumbledore told me to keep you blind, until the right time," she continued, standing dangerously close to her former lover. "Now, is the right time, because I cannot beat him alone."

"B-But you beat him before, with two others helping him," Ron objected.

"No, Ron, I didn't. When I engaged them, I remembered what you said about chess, about being aggressive. I hit them with everything I had, and although it pushed them back, it wasn't enough. I had nothing else, my mind was too clouded with too many ideas. I could only cast simple stuff, I couldn't concentrate. My duel with Radavanovic was the same way. It took me two hours because I had nothing left, I won on only drive and the ability to block." Her hand was on his cheek now, wiping away the blood her slaps caused. She may have been smudging the truth slightly for his benefit, but for the most part it was all true.

"I am a strong witch, but I cannot beat this guy. Not like this, not while I am recovering. I need you Ronald, you! We have to do this together. It has to be you!"

Ron didn't know what to say, he couldn't even think. So much information swirling through his brain. Finally, the mud between his ears cleared.

"What about Serahn? Where is he?"

"What about him?" Hermione asked. "He's either with the muggle, or being protected by him. We can handle either, you and I, right?"

Hermione had never really said it out loud, and the both seemed taken back by the implications of muggle's and wizards working together. Ron leaned forward to Hermione, looking at Edmond, still face down in the mud and then back to her.

"Where are we gonna find him?" he whispered so only she could hear. "We have no idea who or where he is."

Hermione smiled motioning her head in Edmonds direction, "Do you mind?"

Ron shook his head, standing up and moving back a few steps and taking a position of cover for Hermione. She walked over to the muggle, and knelt down by his head.

Hermione grabbed and handful of Edmond's hair, pulling him out of the mud. He rolled over to his back, crying and begging. "He never even asked me any questions," Edmond cried repeatedly.

"Do you remember me?" she asked him.

She had to repeat herself over ten times, before Edmond was with it enough to respond. Finally he nodded, as Hermione took a seat on his chest and placed the tip of her wand at his throat.

"P-Please, no more!" Edmond whaled. "I will tell you anything, j-just no more!"

"I know sweetie," Hermione reassured.

Hermione asked for information and Edmond told her more than she needed to know. Edmond confessed the most startling revelation of them all, that mysterious terrorist Serahn, and the muggle she had been tracking for months were in fact, the same person. All of her shoddy intelligence seemed instantly flow into one giant, perfectly laid out puzzle. One with a very clear picture.

Hermione stood up, and smiled at Ron while walking towards him.

"Ready for our next move?" she asked Ron, who nodded immediately. "Right then, to the home of Thomas Howard we go."

"The muggle businessman?"

Hermione nodded, knowing she would find Serahn waiting for them.


	16. Chapter 15: Unity

Chapter 15 – Unity

It took several hours for Ron and Hermione to get back into the city. First they apparated Edmond to the Ministry, and placed him in a holding cell. It was quite a challenge entering the Department of Magical Law Enforcement without drawing too much suspicion, but they managed.

Next it was a trip to Hermione's flat to change clothes. Both of them were soaked to the bone from the midnight thunderstorm, and Hermione needed to change her bandages, which had begun to seep pink ooze through her clothing. Ron donned his official black Ministry robes with maroon trim, ensuring to gear up for a possible alteration with the usual compliment of Auror body armor.

Hermione grabbed the first gray business suit she could find after jumping out of the shower. Alone in her room, she dressed as quickly as her wounds would allow. Her abdomen hurt more than her shoulder, but it, for the most part, had stopped bleeding altogether. It was her shoulder that gave her the most trouble. For one, the wound seeped both on her chest and on her back where the bullet passed clear through her. Secondly, for the majority of her movements, her injured left shoulder did not bother her. However, when she did move it, in a way her body did not agree with, the pain was incredible. Often taking her to her knees for a few moments.

Hermione dried off and tossed her throw towel onto the bed. She threw on a clean bra and knickers and stepped into her trousers which she buttoned at the waist. Sitting down on her bed, she faintly heard dishes clinking in the kitchen. A quick glance through her open bedroom door, she figured Ron was helping himself to some food. Socks and platform heels came next as she stood in front of her vanity mirror.

The bruising on her belly was now mostly a deep purple with an ugly yellow under glow. Hermione forced many of the graphic memories from her mind, as she picked up her wand and pointed it at the scar. Muttering a quick healing charm to help reinforce the sealing of the wounds, her face cringed as she hissed a quick inhale of pain.

With watering eyes, she looked up to the ceiling trying to force the pain out of her mind, as she looked back down into the mirror, she saw Ron standing in the doorway being her. They made eye contact through the mirror, but Hermione did not turn around. She wasn't embarrassed, as he wasn't seeing anything new, but the situation was a bit awkward for her.

Something in her face made Ron quickly put his plate down on the dresser. "Here," he said, "Let me do that." Ron stepped forward, and pulled out his wand as Hermione turned to face him.

He was definitely better at the sealing charm, and his touch on her bare stomach was incredibly gentle. Hermione suddenly realized she was wearing only a bra for a top, but she dared not move while his wand was casting.

His touch was so soft; it sent shivers down to the tips of her toes. She dared not speak; afraid she might destroy the moment. After a few seconds Ron finished on her abdomen, as his gaze climbed up to her left breast.

His cheeks flushed, as his stare drifted up to Hermione's eyes. Ron swallowed hard, and his nervousness made Hermione smile a little inside. He swallowed again, and reached to slide her strap out of the way of the bandage. As he peeled the adhesive charm and bandage Hermione saw his fingers tremble slightly, and as they stood, mere inches from each other, Ron's face turned sour as he finally laid eyes on her wound.

Without hesitation, Ron's wand danced over the place where the bullet ripped itself out of her flesh. Her eyes never left his as his face contorted in intense concentration. With glazed eyes, Ron's left hand found its way to Hermione's exposed back and with a firm grip he pulled her closer. Just as their waists touched, Ron touched the tip of his wand into the center of her wound. His grip on her back was firm as he appeared unsurprised her legs buckled in pain.

Her distraction, thanks to the intimacy of the moment, made the pain more bearable but she still lurched and grabbed two fistfuls of his robes. She buried her face into his chest as hers heaved a few quick speed bumps of anguish. As she reached deep inside for her composure, Hermione felt Ron's arms moving around her, and as his hug tightened she longed to feel the embrace mere fractions of a second away.

His wand tip touching the back of her shoulder caught her completely off guard and there was no stopping the scream she let loose into the fabric of his robes. For a millisecond, rage erupted up inside her chest, infuriated by him fooling her.

Ron, to her surprise, was aware of what he did, and the sound of his wand hitting the floor followed by the most incredible hug she had ever received turned lose the tsunami inside her heart.

There were so many unsaid things in the embrace, Hermione dared not move. He held her, for what seemed like hours and yet mere seconds at the same time. When they finally parted, Ron turned away quickly before Hermione could see his face, and picked his wand off the floor. When he stood to face her, she had already turned her back to him and was staring into the mirror. Her room was once again filled with tension and awkwardness, and for the first time since he had walked in, she felt exposed.

Hermione looked into the bathroom to ensure she didn't make eye contact with him through the mirror. She felt him move in behind her, but didn't break her gaze locked onto the shower curtain. His lips touched the wound on the back of her shoulder, and she jumped.

"Arms up, love." He whispered upon completion of the kiss; his hot breath rippling across the skin of her shoulder.

Hermione's gaze snapped into the mirror, as Ron gently raised her elbows. In his right hand he held her Muggle tack vest which he had grabbed from under her bed. Understanding him, perhaps just a little bit more, Hermione raised her arms allowing Ron to slide the vest around her. Firmly he affixed the Velcro taking extra care around the wounds on her shoulder.

Hermione felt stupid and wondered why it was suddenly so hard to talk to him. She watched as he cast several silent charms around her, each ending with a tap of the vest with his wand. Once he was done, she reached for her blouse lying on her bed and slid it on.

Ron appeared behind her in the mirror, once again holding his plate and what was left of a turkey sandwich. She reached inside her nightstand drawer and pulled out her Muggle pistol, and as she turned to face Ron she clipped it to the back of her waist.

Reaching behind her was a small challenge, as her shoulder screamed its disapproval. Stepping forward towards him, Ron smiled and held out half of his sandwich.

"Eat," he said. Without hesitation she took a big bite right after him. They moved and walked through the flat handing the sandwich back and forth to each other until it was gone. As they walked out the front door to her flat, Hermione grabbed the last few things she needed from a hallway end table, to include her cell phone and keys.

Standing on the street Ron looked around at the night's sky. It was well after midnight, and whatever storm had drenched the Borrow was not present over London. He turned towards Hermione who was sliding her wand up her sleeve after securing the latch.

"Where're we headed, and more importantly, how are we getting there?" Ron asked, with a faint smile as he tucked the back of his robes in at the waist.

"This Muggle lives not to far from here," Hermione answered, pulling out her cell phone. "I think we should drive honestly, you know how I feel about brooms and I am not really up for apparating."

"Okay," Ron answered without argument, "Where is your auto?"

"Parked just a few blocks from here in a garage," she answered while pressing keys on her phone.

"Who are you talking to?" Ron asked, but Hermione didn't answer instead pointing the way to the garage. Ron didn't push the issue.

It took just a few minutes to get to Hermione's sport utility vehicle. Once she programmed the Muggle's address into the navigation system, they were on their way.

"Idiot," Hermione exhaled, as Ron looked at her in confusion from the passenger seat. "His address, is plotable so we don't have to worry about a Fidaleous Charm. I don't know that I could ever live in a place that was plotable to be honest." She added for general information, and to keep the conversation going.

"Someday," Ron blurted, breaking an awkward moment, "You are going to have to explain to me how this stuff works."

"Gladly," she smiled, merging her auto onto a thoroughfare, "We can do that on our second date!"

"Second date?" Ron asked, confused.

"Ron Weasley," Hermione bellowed with enormous eyes, obviously flirting with him. "If you count that shoddy sandwich as the dinner plans we made before I got hurt, I am gonna take this pistol and stick it so far—"

"No, fine! Just didn't understand," Ron interrupted, raising his arms as if surrendering. "Second date it is, shit!"

They both laughed briefly, before the tone inside her auto got rather quiet. Hermione mentioned it would take them just about thirty minutes to get to the Muggle's home, but Ron didn't even respond.

Once outside the city, and away from street lamps the darkness seemed to swallow everything outside the windows of Hermione's auto. If not for the din of the headlamps on the road or the red glow of the instruments and gauges the darkness would have consumed them for sure. After almost ten minutes of silence, Hermione couldn't take it anymore. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Snap out of it, start playing with buttons or knobs or something, jeez."

"Sorry," Ron whispered, fussing with the pockets of his robes. "Gotta get serious, you don't have any fags in here, do ya?" Ron turned and opened the center console of the auto, looking.

"Since when do you smoke?" Hermione laughed.

"It's how I get ready for a fight, it calms me, I know its ghastly, and I'm sorry I hid it from you." Ron closed the console and began fussing with his robes again.

"I really don't care, Ron," Hermione said honestly, "you don't need to hide—"

"There we are!" Ron interrupted with a laugh, pulling a fresh pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket. "Damn undetectable extensions. Crisis obverted, and to think I almost called Kreature!"

"To bring you your fags?" Hermione gasped, half playful, half serious.

"Only teasing, love," Ron laughed as they made eye contact. "Do you mind?"

"Let's not make a habit of smoking in my vehicle, Ron, but if it calms your nerves, go ahead. I want one too."

Ron smiled, and stuck two cigarettes between his lips. Lighting them both with his wand, he handed one to Hermione, and kept the other for himself. Hermione cracked both front windows and although she rarely smoked she relished the connection they were having.

From the drivers seat Hermione tried her best to read Ron's posture through her peripheral vision, but all he was doing was staring off into the night. The red glow of the vehicles instruments, mixed with the occasional orange pulse of a glowing cigarette cherry made for a very interesting atmosphere inside the auto. Taking a drag off her cigarette for bravery, she spoke as casually as she could.

"Okay, so, you're the Auror, talk to me," she began, a little more forcefully than she would have liked. "Tell me what you are thinking, let's work out our plan."

"Last time I checked, you're an Auror too, love." Ron responded, not taking his gaze off the darkness.

"Perhaps, but not like you." Hermione conceded. "You have done this loads more than I have, tell me what we are gonna do."

Ron exhaled a long drag before speaking, "You say he has six wizards, including Malfoy. Does that count him as well? What'd you say his name was? Serahn?"

"According to Malfoy, yes, six including those two. Wait? Now, that I think about it, I don't know if he said that or not."

"So it could be eight, then?" Ron snorted, releasing some frustration. "And why are we not calling in for any backup?"

"Um," Hermione paused, pulling her cell phone from her hip in response to it vibrating. "It's like this, I don't report to anyone in the magical world, except the Minister, and Kingsley and I really only chat about once a week. I give him an idea of what's going on, but he really leaves everything to me. So if anyone, in the magical world had access to my itinerary as far as that trip goes, it certainly wasn't the Minister. You and I weren't speaking much, but I doubt you relayed anything I said the night we left to anyone."

"Yeah, I didn't even tell Harry, in fact, I am not really sure you said anything sensitive. I mean, you didn't give me any timelines."

"Right, so the only other wizard with me was Jonas."

"Yeah, you missed his funeral by the way, you were still unconscious. Harry went for you though, as did Kingsley, said it was a lovely service."

"Thanks," Hermione added casually, trying not to lose her focus. "We had no idea we were coming back to London until the Minister walked onto the plane. I mean, he literally used his executive authority to order the pilot to fly to London. It sent every aid scrambling over the schedule change. It was a mess, but within five minutes we were airborne, and all the communications on that plane are monitored. No cellular phones, not personal computer communication, everything is watched."

"You're thinking it was an inside job?" Ron gasped, "Holy shit! Now I really wanna know why we don't have backup."

"Ron, I have no idea who it could have been. That's why I think we should investigate ourselves. I trust Jonas, but I cannot possibly think who else could have tipped this guy off. I mean, they knew too much."

"Yeah, they hit your vehicle first, and killed Jonas. They knew what they were doing. I mean someone could be Imperius'd but I am just sure you would spot someone around the Minister acting all retarded, wouldn't you."

"Exactly," Hermione said, as she turned off the thoroughfare, they were in the country now with very few signs of civilization around them. "This guy operates in both the Muggle and Magical worlds, and he uses the ignorance between them to hide his tracks. That's why the intelligence never made any sense to me, because I am from both worlds too. It reeked of magic, but the Muggle's never thought it was anything, and the wizards just thought it was a Muggle affair."

"Clever plan, in fact, it's brilliant."

"Quite, which is why I think we will fare better without a full operation." Hermione's phone buzzed again and she opened it.

"Please tell me you are talking to Malfoy," Ron blurted out, finally unable to control his curiosity. "Because I would really like to know what he knows or if we can trust him, for that matter."

"No, I wish," Hermione said, still not telling him who she was communicating with. "Ron, I will be honest, Draco and I did not communicate enough for me to get a good handle on how trustworthy he is. I wouldn't have put him in play like you did, and frankly I didn't put him in play simply for this reason." She was trying her best to not start an argument, but the Draco factor was definitely a problem.

"I didn't have a terrible amount of information to go on Hermione," Ron said softly, flipping his finished cigarette out the window before lighting another. "I did what I thought was best, given the information I had, I am sorry if it was wrong."

Hermione's head snapped to her right to look at Ron. She was astonished, as his statement was the first ever time he had not tried to defend himself when she said he did something differently than she would. A minor olive branch to be sure, but still a token of peace between them.

"Ron," Hermione said, reaching her hand to his, "It's okay, we don't have to think alike all the time. All you have to say, is what you did say, that you made a decision. I am fine with it. We will figure out what to do, I'm not worried."

Ron smiled back at her and squeezed her hand locking in that moment as another shared victory between them.

"Alright," Ron continued, "Up to eight wizards, and no idea who's leaking the intel from the Ministry. How many Muggle's?"

"Absolutely, no idea."

"A shame that tree-boy didn't tell us," Ron added, wishing they had interrogated Edmond further.

"Wait!" Hermione jumped, "he did! There are four! Four guards."

"Hmm, that complicates things. They'll be armed for sure, how many bullets does that gun of yours have?"

"Ha, we can't kill them, Ronald." Hermione laughed, "and since when do you know what bullets are?"

"Since you almost died by one." Ron's words brought on an awkward silence, as Hermione pulled her auto over to the shoulder of the deserted road. Hermione's phone buzzed again as she threw the vehicle into park, and turned off the ignition. Opening the door and releasing her lap restraint, she turned to Ron, "We're here."

Ron exited and walked around to the front as Hermione was standing by the driver's door pressing buttons on her cell phone. As her conversation ended on the screen, she tossed the phone back into her auto and shut the door.

"Okay, where were we?" she said, smiling and looking around into the night.

"About to have a piss," Ron said, annoyed. "It's an adrenaline thing, sorry. I read somewhere the body makes you do that to prepare for combat."

"Guess I better have one too then," Hermione agreed playfully, her hands already working the buttons on her waist. "Be right back." As she turned and walked away into the darkness, Ron spoke up.

"Hey! Cast your Patronus, Hermione, will ya."

"Why? So you can watch?" Hermione flirted back.

"No, leave it here with me," Ron yelled into the blackness, "but if something happens, I will know because your concentration will weaken and it will vanish. Come on, just do it."

Her silver otter zoomed past his head a second later, nearly causing him to dive out of its way. He ducked as it sailed around him, swimming in the air. After a few rotations it spoke in Hermione's voice. "Clever, Ronald. I am impressed."

Ron tried to take care if his business on the side of the road, quite distracted by the otter flying around him. After a few second though, he was able to do what he needed to. Hermione rejoined him a moment later, as her Patronus vanished with a flick of her wand.

"You know, here we are on another adventure, you and I." Hermione said stepping in closer to Ron. "Doesn't it seem weird that Harry's not here?"

"I wish he was," Ron admitted almost ashamedly. "Especially if we are about to take on eight."

"Really? I thought after you all fighting today, and you disarming him, you wouldn't really want him here." Hermione let Ron walk away from her and watched as his ignited wand tip lit another cigarette.

"Harry Potter, is my brother, and my best friend, Hermione. Tonight was me being mental, though I think I have every right to be, but how I am gonna fix this with him, I have no idea."

She could hear the hurt in his voice, and the doubt. As she walked up behind him, she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

"What about the Elder Wand, Ronald?"

"I never wanted that fucking thing, damnit!" He screamed rounding on her.

"What was that?" Hermione gasped, drawing her wand.

"What?" Ron said turning and brandishing his own wand.

"EXPELIARMUS!" A voice cried, sending Ron's wand flying into the air. Ron reacted almost instantly and scrambled for it, as it hit the ground three meters away he dove.

"Hermione take cover!" Ron screamed recovering his wand and turning on his attacker. He fired a quick curse from the ground which was blocked, and just as he got to his feet to fire again Hermione ran between them waiving her arms.

"Stop!" she screamed, as she ran up to him pulling his wand hand out of the way.

Emerging from the darkness, and taking off his invisibility cloak, Harry Potter ignited his wand to identify himself.

"Harry?" Ron gasped, "Are you mental?"

"I don't know, mate, are you?" he responded stepping forward.

"Is that who you have been talking to?" Ron asked Hermione, who nodded.

"Yes, Ron. I've been trying to get him here all night, we need his help."

"I agree," Ron said, dusting off his robes. "So the wand is yours again, since this wasn't prearranged?"

They both nodded, but Harry stepped around Hermione and moved so close to Ron's face their noses were practically toughing. The expression on Harry's face was not a pleasant one. "My jaw hurts like hell, and my skin feels like dragon scale where you tried to transfigure me, ass!"

"Ah, about that, mate." Ron bashed, stepping back and ruffling the spikes of his own hair.

"I asked myself," Harry interrupted, "what I would do if it was Ginny."

"I expect you'd do the same thing." Ron admitted.

"You're probably right." Harry conceded, and held a hand out to Ron, who quickly shook it. "Okay, then, who's gonna brief me."

* * *

"Hermione," Harry smirked, "If I loved you any more, we'd be naked. That's damn brilliant!" Harry spoke sarcastically as he ruffled his already messy hair. Standing on the side of the road, amidst the utter darkness he squatted down and scooped up a handful of gravel and dust. Letting it slide through his fingers, he focused on the operation at hand.

Ron walked up beside his best friend, leaving Hermione standing at the hood of her sport utility vehicle. Harry did not look up, as Ron kicked a few errant pieces of gravel focusing his gaze more on the mess of dust at his feet.

"Good plan." Ron whispered nonchalantly, as Harry nodded his agreement.

"Eight on three, with possibly four Muggles, we can do that." Harry added as if trying to convince himself.

"I am sensing a 'but.'"

Harry looked over his shoulder back towards Hermione, who was still leaning against the bumper of her auto. Once he was sure she was out of earshot, he looked up to Ron.

"Yeah, her butt, she can barely stand, mate, and those four Muggles are probably part of a freaking strike steam we can't see." Harry whispered, and although the darkness consumed an expression Harry could make, Ron was sure his face was solemn.

"I sorted her wounds before we left London, she's got a few punches in her still, doesn't she?"

"Ron," Harry questioned, picking up another handful of gravel. "Don't you think you are being a bit risky, with her, I mean? Are your instincts really telling you she's the best witch for the job?"

"Mate, this is Hermione we are talking about. I mean, come on! She's better than you and I put together."

"At magic, yes, but not at fighting. How many more times are we going to put her in the fire? I know you are in love with her, but I love her too. And I expect my feelings for her, and my objections mirror how you would react if Ginny were here."

Ron crouched down beside Harry and lit another cigarette with his wand. "These last few hours, Harry, have been…" Ron let his voice trail off, as if searching for the right words.

"After the fiasco in Barcelona, Ginny and I nearly broke up." Harry admitted, interrupting Ron's thought. "It was too much, her being involved. I wish I could say it wasn't sexist, but it really was, I feel like it is my job to protect her, and my first instinct is to keep Ginny as far away from harm as possible. Now, here we are with Hermione, and I wonder why you aren't feeling the same way."

"I am, mate, but this is her show, she did all the leg work, and she was the one who nearly died. Not us. It wouldn't feel right without her here."

"You and I are a great team, Ron," Harry continued. "We have been a great team since we were first years. After all these years, I think I know why. It's because we don't distract each other, we can focus, and do what needs to be done without worrying about the other. We are weak, as it pertains to them and although I am sure Hermione would have something to say about this conversation, I can't get past it. We are pigs."

"Badass pigs, for the record." Ron laughed.

"We took down Voldemort, and that is probably all I will ever be known for. Peaking at seventeen, do you have idea what I am focused on these days?"

"If you even mention my sisters knickers, mate I will—"

"Ha, no!" Harry snorted, "The only thing I can think about is being a husband and perhaps one day, a father."

"You two do alright, I think, mate."

"Ron, Ginny is my world, and Hermione is yours. We are fucking muscle compared to the greatness those two will accomplish, I am sure of it. Our job is to beat shit up, and as it pertains to us three, excluding Ginny, Hermione always has, and always will be the best of us. The greatest of us all."

"Yeah," Ron sighed, as if daydreaming.

"You know there is talk about her, right? About her being Minister one day."

"I hear the same shit you do mate."

"Then we have to focus, and start thinking about her. That has to come from you, we can't let this stuff keep happening to her, and at some point she is going to have to stop running off on our adventures. At some point the rules are going to start applying to us, and I am afraid we will ruin her."

"This isn't my idea of a pre-match speech, Harry."

"I know, I just..I…I had to say it." Harry stood up and tossed sent another handful of gravel spattering down the road. Ron stood up beside him, and flipped his finished cigarette.

"Ron, do you honestly think she is up for a fight?"

"Yeah, mate, I do. If it's us three, sure."

Ron turned towards Hermione, and began walking towards her. After an awkward pause, Harry to spun on his heels and joined him.

"Everything okay boys?" Hermione asked playfully.

"Alright," Harry said, taking charge. "It will be dawn soon." Harry moved to the passenger side of Hermione's vehicle and took off his invisibility cloak. Dropping it in the back seat, along with his cell phone he glanced at the horizon to the east. "It looks like we have about three hours until it starts getting light, maybe less. How far are we from his place?"

"Maybe two miles," Hermione answered, pointing the direction.

"Alright, wedge formation, Hermione is on point."

"What?" Ron huffed.

"Let's put her in the middle, she's still not 100 percent. Disillusionment charms from this point forward, Ron and I will ping every possible detection spell. We should be able to spot anyone long before any of their Muggle technology ever picks us up."

"Right," Hermione said without question, differing to both of their Auror experience.

"We need a fallback point, and contact protocols." Ron added, looking at Harry.

"Yeah, fallback point will be identified when we get closer. Contact operations are simple. Hermione how quickly can you get up anti-disapporating charms?"

"As quick as needed."

"If Hermione is not engaged, that is her first move. To prevent anyone from apparating or disapparating on top of us. If she does have contact, I will get it. Whomever has contact, will force the attacker into the middle, and the wedges will flank. Fuck them with the crossfire."

"Right!" Hermione and Ron said in unison.

"Moving like this is slow, and silent. No communication, make sure you look to each other once every three steps. Do not break silence for anything." Harry continued.

"Do you want Muffliato around us?" Hermione asked, trying to help.

"No, Muggle's can hear the buzzing." Harry answered. "Any other questions?" Harry looked to his two best friends, who were both shaking their heads. "Great, lets move. Hermione, you have the lead. We will form up once I indentify a rally point."

Hermione nodded and silently cast the charm to make herself invisible. She watched as Ron and then Harry disappeared. She turned, but then stopped.

"Um, not to be a nag, but exactly how am I supposed to look back at you every three steps if you are invisible?" Hermione, asked, a little embarrassed.

"You will be able to see us, just barely. Look for movement, you'll see. We aren't completely invisible." Harry whispered from her right.

"Look with your ears, love, they are more accurate than your eyes." Ron added.

Hermione shrugged, thinking they were both barking. With her wand drawn, she turned into their direction of travel. Hermione heard Ron move gracefully to her left, and a faint rustle in the weeds to her right told her Harry too was in position.

The hunt, was on.


	17. Chapter 16: Blast From the Past

Chapter 16

Blast from the Past

The front doors to Thomas Howard's home opened as a man stepped out to address the guards stationed on the porch. Clouds had covered the sky, so there wasn't any moonlight to illuminate the scene. From two hundred feet away Ron, Hermione and Harry could hear the man yelling at the guards, but they couldn't make out what he was saying.

The man walked down the steps and motioned for the two sentries to follow him. He marched down the front drive to the guard shack still barking orders. As the man got closer to the guard shack his bright blonde hair came into view. It was Draco Malfoy who was belittling the guards and as he got closer, they could understand bits of what he was screaming.

"--haven't heard from him in over twelve hours! Serahn wants him found now. You two get your asses into London and find that Muggle piece of shit. You drag his ass out of bed, and haul him here to me, understand?"

Two of the guards, the two from the front porch moved quickly to the vehicle parked at the guard shack. Two doors slammed shut followed by headlights and the engine starting. One of the remaining guards opened the gate, and with a quick screech of tires the sedan moved onto the main road.

Hermione reacted quickly conjuring a large bush right in front of them before the vehicles headlights honed in on their position.

The three watched as the car zoomed by, the gate closed, and Draco moved back towards the house. Malfoy stopped and turned towards the gate.

"Lock this place down, until they get back. Put all the patrols on the perimeter, I don't want anything getting through, understood?"

Both guards began barking Draco's orders over their radio, and one by one they watched as each patrolling guard took position around the outer fence.

"Well, that was nice of him," Hermione joked, "Now there are only ten."

"Yep, the front stoop is empty now and there aren't anymore wandering guards." Ron added, "How long to London from here?"

"Depends on where they are going," Hermione answered, "Where did Edmond live?"

"Near Downing Street, I think." Ron answered.

"Hmm, perhaps forty minutes at this time of night, maybe more."

"Okay," Harry said standing up, "So we have about ninety minutes, Ron you said you could mask apparition?"

"Hermione you okay for one quick jump?" Ron asked her.

"Yes, I think so," she answered quickly.

"Okay, Harry, side along Hermione to the stoop, when you get there, Hermione love, cast an atmospheric charm to make it thunder. I will be right behind you."

"Brilliant," said Harry grabbing Hermione. "Ready?"

"Wait!" Ron cried, with a raised voice.

"What?" Hermione and Harry asked together.

"Two things, the guards, now that they are not moving, do we want to do something with them?"

"Hmm," said Harry. "Stunning will take time, and isn't very quiet."

"Imperio?" Hermione asked, slightly out of character.

"Not really justified," Ron answered. He knew it was bold for her to even suggest an Unforgivable Curse. "We don't even know what we will find inside. If they become an issue we can do it then, if we need too."

"Agreed," said Harry. "You said two things?"

Ron reached out and grabbed Hermione. Finding her in the darkness, he reached down and grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "I will ask this once, Hermione. Are you sure you are ready for this? No one will think anything less if you choose to sit this one out."

She squeezed his hand back. "I'm ready Ron," she assured him.

"If it gets to be too much,"

"I will get out, I promise." She answered him with another affectionate squeeze of his hand.

"Okay, ready." Ron added releasing Hermione's grip. He heard them grab a hold of each other, as Ron raised his wand. Hermione cast your spell as soon as you are able. Three, Two," Ron snapped his wand pointing it at the sky. "One!"

BANG! A large smack of thunder erupted, and trailing off it masked the _crack _of Harry and Hermione's departure.

The sky went quiet for brief second before another, even louder explosion of thunder echoed across the sky accompanied with some spider web lightning. Ron raised both arms over his head and vanished with a _crack!_

Ron's feet landed on the porch as Hermione's thunder trailed off. He didn't move a muscle instead scanned the property with his eyes. All guards were still positioned where they were when he left, no one was the wiser. An invisible hand reached out and touched Ron's chest as Hermione found him at last.

"Brilliant, Ron," she whispered.

The three of them stood behind one of the four colonial columns that held up the roof of the front stoop. After only a second, the front door to the estate opened, and with a ruffle of fabric three wands were drawn on Draco as he walked outside.

Standing just four feet from them, he didn't look in their direction, staring instead down at the guard shack. Draco pulled out a Muggle radio, and began yelling into it.

"Report," he said.

"All's quiet, sir." A scratchy voice replied. "Still holding positions at the perimeter, shall we adjust?"

"Negative," Draco replied turning his face to stare directly at Hermione. "We will be in the basement for the ceremony, you may see some strange stuff. Maintain your positions unless I call for you, understood?"

"Hey sir, this place has been strange from day one; I don't ask questions, I just cash checks. We will hold until you call for us." The voice over the radio replied.

Hermione stared back at Draco, who kept flexing and expanding his eyelids. Silently, she whispered, _Legilemens, _entering his mind.

"GET THE FUCK INSIDE DAMNIT!" his mind screamed at her causing her to jump. Hermione reached out grabbing Ron and Harry, and led them inside. Once they cleared the hearth Draco followed and secured the door behind him.

Draco led the way, but did not make any eye contact, nor did he speak. The lights of the main furrier were dim allowing them to follow, still masked under disillusionment. Draco looped down a flight of circular marble stairs followed closely by Hermione and her guard. The staircase led to an open sitting room adorned with a giant gold door. Draco stopped, smoothed out his black suit coat and took a quick look over his appearance before pulling out his wand and waving it at the door.

Internal locks began to click, and a moment later the door swung inward. Draco walked slowly forward, as the door opened, and without missing a beat Hermione, Ron and Harry followed.

Hermione felt a tug on her bad shoulder, and winched as Ron pulled her behind the first marble column inside the new room. She slumped again the column for cover, swallowing the pain in her mind.

Draco continued to walk into the center of the room, as the three of them huddled silently. On the other side of the room, perhaps thirty feet away, there was a crowd of people, whom Draco was now joining.

"I count six," Harry whispered barely audible.

"Which one is Serahn?" Ron asked.

Hermione peered around the column to get a look. The outskirts of the room was quite dark, as the torches were dim. On the backside of the room, opposite of where they stood, one man stood behind an executive desk, surrounded by five.

"The man behind the desk, I fought him on the bridge," Hermione added, "That has to be him."

"Scale of one to ten, Hermione," Harry asked, pulling her back behind the pole, "How is he with a wand? Ten being Riddle or Dumbledore."

"Seven, maybe eight, but he made stupid mistakes too."

"What would you say Malfoy is?" Harry continued quietly.

"Six?" Ron questioned.

"Master," Draco spoke in a loud voice, silencing everyone in the room including the Aurors. "There is still no word from Edmond Winchester. I have dispatched two guards to go check his residence. Are you still able to control him?"

"No," the man behind the desk answered. "I lost control of him several hours ago. Do you think he could be dead?"

"I am checking with my contacts at the Ministry to see if he has been arrested. There is a chance the Weasley Auror may have tracked him. I have heard reports he is looking for the Mudbloods attacker."

Hermione bit her lip at Draco's use of his favorite word pertaining to her.

"That's it," Ron bellowed, "That's Draco's codeword, it means the man behind the desk is Serahn."

"Brilliant," Harry whispered. "Do you know anyone else up there?" Both Ron and Hermione responded quietly, "no."

"Six on three then," Ron took charge, "Silent stunners. _Stupefy_ them, Hermione can you do that non-verbally?"

"Yes."

"Harry move to the right column, you take Serahn. Hermione you take Draco from the right side of this column as you are right handed; get him out of the way. I will take that witch from the left side."

"Good call, I hate fighting witches, on your count, Ron," Harry laughed as he moved silently to the next column.

Ron and Hermione stayed close to each other, as Ron leaned in towards her. "I know you are capable, but don't push it, Hermione. Harry and I can take three, if it gets too fast, please take cover. Remember you promised."

"Okay," she whispered leaning her stomach against the column

"Concentrate on the simplest spell, love, ninety percent of duels are grade three or less. The best answer is the one that comes to your mind first, do not hesitate, just cast! One thing and a time, one spell at a time; focus, and finish! Understood?"

"Yes," Hermione's heart swelled as Ron asserted such a protective nature. Her heart was racing now, and she could feel each beat pound in her shoulder and stomach.

"Okay," Ron said softly, "Here we go, on three." Ron took his wand and gently tapped it on the column, once, then again, and finally as he moved from behind the column into position, his wand struck the marble for a third time.

Without a word, three simultaneous red jets of light launched up at the crowd huddled around Serahn's desk. As quick as each of them fired, Hermione ducked behind the column for cover.

"Damnit, I missed," Harry yelled as he too scrambled for cover. "I got someone though, just not Serahn."

"Malfoy down!" Hermione bellowed.

"Witch down," Ron added.

There was a quick scramble at Serahn's desk mixed in with the distinct sounds of three bodies hitting the marble floor. One voice rang out loudest, which Hermione assumed was Serahn, "HOMENUM REVELIO!" he bellowed.

Hermione watched as Ron and Harry came into view, and looking down she watched as her disillusionment charm was removed.

"Took 'em long enough," Harry snorted with a sarcastic laugh, trying to eye line of sight around his cover.

"And who do we have here?" Serahn yelled, and there were sounds of hurried footsteps down the marble stairs leading up to his desk.

Ron leaned back, and made eye contact with Harry, "Burn the adds down! I want him!" Harry nodded, spun and engaged, as Ron and Hermione too broke their cover.

Hermione jumped out and fired a quick red jet at the closest wizard to her. She was shocked how close he was, and he managed to swat her curse away with little trouble. In her peripheral vision, she sensed Ron close and saw Harry unleashing an onslaught of red and blue spells on his opponent who fell back quickly under the barrage.

Serahn stood in front of his desk, and he was striking and smiting between Ron and Harry. Hermione blocked two more spells from her wizard, before Ron cast a silent curse hitting Hermione's opponent square in the chest. The wizard crumpled not expecting the attack, which left Hermione and Ron to engage Serahn.

Harry had no problem disarming his opponent, and with a quick shot he stunned the wizard rendering him unconscious.

"Excellent," Serahn yelled while swatting away one of Hermione's spells. "Excellent! You must be Potter, Weasley and Granger! Excellent."

All three of them held their wands on him. Harry circled around to the right, Ron stayed left, and Hermione moved to the middle of the room. Four wizards and one witch lay unconscious on the floor.

"You are under arrest," Hermione said defiantly, "place your wand on the floor."

"Awww," Serahn taunted, not lowering his wand, "Don't any of you want a shot at the title?" He raised his arms in another taunting gesture.

"Cocky Americans," Ron laughed, "She said lower your wand, now do it!"

"Oh, I have no intention of surrendering," Serahn said as he moved near the limp body of Draco. He flicked his wand, and Draco began to stir. "I have worked way too hard, for too many years, to give up now."

Walking behind his desk Serahn moved towards the witch who lay to the right of his desk. The three Auror were not willing to let him _enervate, _another.

"Hands up!" Hermione screamed. Draco still lay on his back, but his eyes were now open. Serahn merely smiled and shook off Hermione's order.

Harry fired a quick disarming spell, which Serahn blocked easily. Ron and Hermione each fired stunners, forcing him back to the middle of the room behind his desk.

Fights like this were quite awkward for Hermione, and she assumed Harry and Ron felt the same way. If your opponent refused to engage, it was a challenge to apprehend them if they didn't want to surrender.

"I do appreciate you coming to visit me tonight Miss Granger, Mister Weasley and of course Mister Potter." Serahn continued, "My mistress will be excited to see you again."

"Okay, I'll bite," Ron sassed, "Who's pulling your strings?"

"My strings? Ha! No one, I pull my own, my friend. I have been running this show since around the time you were born, just me, always only me. I curse those I need, but it has always been just me, bouncing back and forth between two worlds while none is ever the wiser."

"We are now," Hermione added, stepping in closer to him.

"Oh, sweet Mudblood, you have no idea what I have done, and I am sorry to say that you never will."

"Call her a Mudblood again," Ron chimed in, defending Hermione with an elevated wand. "I dare you! I really do, please, call her that again."

"Ha! So gallant, Weasley, would you like a shot at me, son?"

"Don't mind if I do," Ron said, stepping forward. Serahn raised both hands into the air, and the result of him slapping both hands together sent Hermione, Harry and especially Ron flying backwards.

Hermione landed flat on her back and the crunch of her body on the cold marble floor send waves of pain through her injuries. She looked over and saw Harry too on his back, blinking the starts out of his eyes.

"Well," Ron grunted, "That was unnecessary."

Hermione clambered to her feet, which took a lot longer than she would have liked. When she stood she saw Harry and Ron already standing.

"Burn his ass!" Harry yelled and began flicking his wand, Ron joined him in a barrage of yellow and purple light.

After a couple of quick casts, Harry and Ron stopped casting as neither of their spells got anywhere near Serahn. He sat, with a cocky smug look on his face, on the front edge of his desk, laughing at them.

"My own version of the Fidalius Charm. Yeah you can see through the wards, but getting through, well that you might find a bit more traumatic. You are welcome to try of course." Serahn added, gesturing for them to step forward.

"Can you get that down?" Harry asked of Hermione.

"Maybe, it will take time," she answered.

"Time, I have," Serahn laughed, "go ahead!"

Hermione began flicking her wand at the wards, while Harry and Ron joined in trying to strip down the protection.

"If you give me two minutes, I will let you in, just need to brew up something first."

Harry looked at Ron, and then Hermione, then quickly returned to trying to strip down the protective barrier.

Serahn moved his wand sending his desk flying into a marble wall closest to Harry. From the impact they thought it would shatter into toothpicks, but it barely cracked. Serahn summoned a large cauldron from thin air, and ignited a fire underneath it. With another two or three wand movements, something began to boil inside, filling the air with a purple pink mist of steam.

Hermione stopped casting, caught in awe by Serahn's actions. The three of them stood outside his protective wards, watching as produced something wrapped in thick black velvet.

Serahn smiled at them, as he caught their stares. "Being born a Muggle, gives me certain advantages, don't you think, Miss Granger?" Serahn walked into the front of the cauldron, not giving Hermione a chance to answer. "We see both worlds, and both worlds make sense to us. Ridiculous spells, like this one here," he said, pointing to the cauldron, now boiling over in plumes of purple smoke. "So many wasted words, to conjure such a thing, when in reality, it takes only a few simple ingredients."

Hermione was clueless to what he was doing. She watched as he laid the velvet on the ground at the edge of the wards. Uncoiling the fabric, they saw bones and a skull.

"I did all the work," he continued, "because I am smarter. I know it takes not the clever words, but the actions." Serahn walked over to Draco, who still had not moved from the floor. Reaching out for Draco's hand, Serahn produced a small dagger, which sliced into Draco's flesh. Malfoy made neither sound nor expression of pain, as the blade soiled from his blood. Serahn stood and walked back to the velvet cloth on the floor.

"It takes three sacrifices, but only one of them can be willing," Serahn said, flicking the hilt of the knife to drop Draco's blood onto the bones. A wave of his wand produced several white linens stained with blood. "I thank you for your unwilling contribution Miss Granger, compliments of your hospital." Serahn dropped the sheets containing Hermione's blood onto the bones as he turned the knife on himself. "Blood of Kin, Blood of Mud, Blood of Servant, my Mistress will kill you all!"

Ron, Hermione and Harry searched each others eyes for answers, but none of them had any to give.

"Simple meaningless words," Serahn continued, "All that remains is the sliver of my Mistresses soul," he dropped his wand into the pile, "and the potion to grow the flesh." Serahn kicked over the cauldron, spilling its contents onto the remains.

Hermione moved forward to the edge of the wards, watching as the potion smoked over the bones.

"FINNETE INCANTATUM!" Serahn said with a confident whisper, as he raised his arms victoriously.

"You really are an idiot," Hermione bellowed as she felt Serahn's wards collapse by his command. Serahn, whose arms were still extended in triumph, looked at her confused.

"YOU-DROPPED-YOUR-WAND!" Hermione roared as Harry and Ron each fired silent stunners. Which one of her friends actually hit Serahn in the face, she did not know, but as flew back and slumped against the wall, Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the surprised look on his face.

Ron was first to Hermione's side, followed almost immediately by Harry. They watched as the mass of velvet, white sheets, potion and bones began to swirl and cast smoke.

"Now who in the hell do you think is?" Ron asked, almost two confidently.

Hermione shrugged as the mass began to take a form. The black velvet wrapped around something that was crouched over, and just as the sheer fabric closed around it, Hermione swore she saw milky white skin.

The purple fumes began to clear, and quickly a human form came into focus. Crouched low, and shrouded in the black velvet, they heard the sounds of a woman's voice humming a gentle tune.

"Really?" Harry yelled over the rumbling, "Are you serious? A bloody Horcrux?"

The figure turned and stood, her back to them. The jet black hair, covering most of her head fell long as she stood and stretched. The woman's hum grew louder as she reached high above her head. She took a step away from them, and reached out with a bare foot to Serahn's wand sitting on the floor. She grabbed it with her toes, and arched her foot up towards her right hand. Her musical hum, shifted to a very slow cackle and at last she spoke in slow deliberate words.

"I-killed-Sirius-Black," Bellatrix Lestrange sang, turning to face her enemies. "You coming to get me?" she bellowed quickly, looking at Harry.

"Oh, shit," Hermione sighed, as she raised her wand.

Bellatrix laughed at the shocked look on their faces, as their stupefied expressions allowed her an opportunity to taunt them further.

"Weasley, Potter and Granger," she laughed, "A pure blood traitor, a half breed, and the biggest abomination of them all –"

Ron shot first, but Bellatrix seemed to anticipate the attack. Harry and Hermione joined in almost immediately.

Her bare feet shuffled graciously across the marble floor, as Bellatrix slapped away every curse they threw at her.

Bellatrix turned her attention to Harry first, as she obviously saw him as the greatest threat. While swiping away Ron and Hermione's curses, she sent every attack at Harry.

He dropped back, taking a defensive stance and blocking her spells. Hermione screamed to him, but Harry didn't see Bellatrix crumble the marble pillar behind him. In a bone crushing _thud, _Harry was engulfed in tumbling debris of stone and gravel. The dust cleared in seconds as Bellatrix turned her attention to Ron and Hermione. With a large shard of white marble pinning his legs to the ground, Harry did not move.

Ron moved to point, as his wand came alive in jets of red, blue and yellow light. Bellatrix laughed and began to duel. Hermione did not move for a minute torn between checking on Harry and helping Ron.

_Fight! _Her brain screamed at her, _don't get lost in your brain. _Stepping forward, still behind Ron, she engaged firing hexes over his shoulder.

Bellatrix spun, releasing Fiendfyre at Ron who quickly grabbed control of it with his wand. As Ron struggled to silence the wall of animated flame, Bellatrix shot a stunner through the fire at him. His Auror reflexes reacted in a mille-second, but as the curse sailed by his face, Hermione never saw it coming.

The red jet caught her square in the abdomen, and flying backward she knew she'd been hit with _Stupefy. _Soon she would be unconscious, and out of the fight. As her back slammed into the marble floor and she slid towards one of the remaining columns, darkness did not take her, in fact, she was in pain. Severe pain, from her hard landing. Hermione groaned as she doubled over onto her side; her hands rubbing her stomach where the spell had hit her. She felt something hard, and remembered she was wearing her Muggle tack vest. Ron's protection charms held, and although she was in a severe amount of pain, she was thankfully, not unconscious.

Sliding herself behind the closest column for cover, Hermione gripped her wand and tried desperately to get control of her pain.

* * *

Ron pushed back against the advance of Bellatrix's Fiendfyre as he heard Hermione scamper for cover. His mind searched frantically for the incantation to stop it, as Bellatrix continued casting spells into his defenses. She laughed, and taunted him, as finally Ron sent her fire away.

Bellatrix's cackled, "It's just you and me you little blood traitor!" She raised her arms at him, making her black velvet gown flow around her down to her bare feet. Ron stood across from her, taking only a step or two to move himself away from his friends. Bellatrix's looked at him, and smiled, "What? Nothing to say little sidekick? Your precious Potter is out, and your Mudblood whore refuses to fight. No one wants to protect you, little boy. No one loves –"

Ron spun and fired one spell after another. Bellatrix's ducked and blocked as her face turned into a snarl of rage and her brow furrowed. She let out not one single laugh, or taunt, the Death Eater just dueled. She dueled the Auror battling as hard as she could against the spilling and whirling curses Ron sent at her. His onslaught began to work, forcing Bellatrix to step backwards and focus more on blocking than attacking. As she retreated, Ron seized the opportunity an advanced.

Ron took two giant steps forward, falling completely into her trap, with a _crack_ and a _pop _the Death Eater apparated towards him, closing the distance to less than three feet. Ron's reaction was fast, raising his wand, but she was faster. Bellatrix's slammed her wand down like a knife, slicing across Ron's face.

Ron's scream echoed through the hall, as a splash of his blood streaked the across the floor. He turned away from her, clutching his face and dropping to his knees. The pain of her spell burned his flesh, as blood poured from a monstrous gash starting at the bridge of his nose leading down his cheek.

Bellatrix relished in his pain and began to giggle. "I don't know who you look more like Weasley, Potter or your brother. It's too bad you won't be able to steal any of their glory."

Hermione watched in horror as Ron finally collapsed and lay motionless in the middle of the marble room. On her feet now, she was the only one left. Gripping her wand tightly in her right hand, her chest heaved deep gasps of breath. Hermione stared at Bellatrix from behind the column trying desperately to get control of everything flashing through her mind. Ron, Harry, the Weasley's, their lives, their futures, and their love all swirled as she tried to gain her focus. Her gaze shifted to Ron's still form on the cold marble floor.

What happened next, Hermione could only explain as something right out Harry Potter's book. Her chest swelled and she felt a surge in her magic. Gripping her wand, like an assassin holds a knife it suddenly felt awkward and out of place. Hermione looked down to her right hand, and subconsciously adjusted her hold on the vine so that she gripped it with just her fingertips like a scalpel. Everything inside her tingled and she raised her wand just as a green jet shot from the end of Bellatrix's wand.

The killing curse was meant for Ron but Hermione's white spell stopped it just feet before it stuck him. The two spells collided with such force, they sent a shockwave outward and cracked every piece of marble in the hall. Dust spat up as the columns began to crumble, and pieces fell from the ceiling. Hermione stepped from around her cover, moving gracefully across the shattered floor. Their spells fought against each other until Hermione released hers and summoned Ron away from Bellatrix. He slid across the debris towards Harry, while Hermione sent jet after colorful jet at her enemy.

Though Hermione's spells slammed quite hard against Bellatrix's defenses, the charms were still holding. Bellatrix retaliated with such uncanny accuracy; Hermione began to struggle with her own defenses.

_You are so not a dueler, _she thought while retreating a few steps back. _Get her to stop casting, do something, anything! _Hermione looked over Bella's shoulder at a column on the verge of collapse. Silently she summoned a large piece of marble from its middle and pulled it towards her. Bellatrix's ceased casting spells to dive out of its way as it surely would have crushed her. Sections of ceiling began to fall but Bellatrix was already to her feet.

Hermione watched as Bellatrix snapped forward swirling her arms. A blue fire erupted from her wand which was soon transfigured into a sort of troll growing three times taller than either witch.

Hermione stepped forward and slashed at the giant with her wand. The cut damaged the being, but did not stop it from advancing. She tried to silence it, vanquish it, banish it, even transfigure it, but still the troll advanced. Finally, with a lurch of cleverness, she cast a spell to freeze it solid followed immediately by a silent _REDUCTO! _The troll shattered into a thousand pieces.

Bellatrix was already summoning something else; when Hermione's wand grabbed hold of every piece of rubble she could see. Quickly the marble shards began to move, swirling clockwise. As they moved, they picked up more pieces of ceiling, floor and wall engulfing Bellatrix in a tornado of razor sharp stone.

Hermione held both arms overhead controlling the vortex, as more and more debris sucked itself up and began to whip past her. Bellatrix looked confused, and afraid shooting random curses from inside the funnel. She tried interrupt Hermione with _FINNETE _but Hermione resisted. The young girls face twitched and shook in violent concentration as she held the Death Eater in stasis.

Bella kept firing and casting charms to break through. Jets of light were swallowed by the tornado, or picked up becoming part of the cyclone. Streaks of red, and blue, and green swirled around as the infrastructure of Serahn's home began to crumble and add even more shrapnel to the vortex.

Hermione heard taunts and insults watching Bellatrix Lestrange shoot at her, but nothing got through. With shaking hands and a trembling face, Hermione's hair began to straighten and float. Her eyes got whiter, and seemed to glow. Large sections of the ceiling fell into the twister, becoming part of the prison as the cloud covered sky began to peak through the holes.

Bellatrix reached the limit of what she could tolerate, and moved herself directly in front of Hermione. They stared at each other, separated by a fast moving wall of gravel and stone debris. Bellatrix taunted and threatened and began firing killing curse after killing curse directly at Hermione's head.

Hermione held on as hard as she could, and still nothing got through. Blood began to trickle from her nose as she concentrated with all of her might.

A burst of reddish, orange light appeared inside the tornado, and Hermione reached out even further get control of the newly cast FiendFyre. Bellatrix pushed back forcing Hermione to choose between controlling the vortex, or the Fiendfyre that was consuming it.

Slowly the fire consumed the debris as Hermione's control faltered. She was running out of energy and could feel the magic inside her sputter. With a quick flutter of her wand Hermione released the stone and tried to force the fire back onto Bellatrix who quickly banished it herself to avoid death.

Now free of Hermione's prison, she gasped for air and cast a killing curse from just ten feet away. Hermione anticipating the kill shot blocked Avada Kadavra with Ron's spell knowing full well that both of them were in range of the shockwave.

Hermione scrambled to get to her feet as quickly as she could. Bellatrix too was slow to rise, gasping and hacking for every bit of dust filled air her lungs would hold. Hermione tried to disarm her, but missed, Bellatrix countered and also missed. The two witches exchanged half hearted curses that were neither accurate nor powerful. Both women were completely drained.

"You blocked a fucking killing curse, Mudblood," Bellatrix snorted between gasps of breath. Hermione thought she was stalling, trying to recover, so she didn't answer instead began firing again.

Bellatrix retreated, stumbling over a large piece of marble before falling down completely. Staring up at Hermione, she smiled, raised her arms, and winked. There was a _crack _followed by an immediate _pop, _and Bellatrix swore loudly in the exact same place as she had just tried to apparate from.

Hermione found enough energy to barely laugh as she stood there, doubled over and clutching her side. "I am not that stupid," Hermione laughed, having cast the anit-disapparating charm the moment after Bellatrix's cut Ron. She stoop up straight, wiped some of the blood from her nose and mouth, and mustering every last bit of energy she could find, fired the fastest silent disarming hex of her life. Bellatrixs wand clanked across the destroyed floor, as Voldemort's once chief lieutenant stared at her now empty hand.

"Ron," Hermione gasped, as her head began to spin. "Harry?" she turned to check on them. She saw Harry first, whose eyes were barely open as he stared at her trying to focus. Ron was trying to stand, holding his hand over his face. She took one step towards him but his face stopped her cold. Harry reached a panicked hand out, pointing behind her, and as she turned around her wand snapped out of her hand with a loud _pang!_

Standing just a few feet from where Hermione left her, Bellatrix Lestrange, still kneeling in the rubble, laughed as she pointed Draco's wand right at Hermione's heart.

"That was a good fight, you filthy little bitch." Bellatrix taunted victoriously, clambering to her feet. "Too bad no one will ever know."

Hermione knew she was cornered, and her wand was too far away to lunge for. In desperation she looked down at Harry, but didn't see his wand either. She was defenseless, and as Bellatrix raised Draco's wand high Hermione closed her eyes; _I am so sorry, Ron._

"_AVADA KADAVRA_!" a voice screamed; Hermione saw green light through her eyelids, yet she felt no pain. Her tear stricken eyes were locked shut, she heard herself hit the floor, but at the same time she still felt like she was standing. She could feel the cold air and smell the marble dust.

Hermione opened her eyes, finding herself still standing where she remembered. She looked over her shoulder, and Harry was still there, smiling at her. In the center of the room, Bellatrix's body lay strewn in the rubble, Draco's wand still in her hand.

She was confused, and looked around. To her horror, she found Ron, face bloodied and looking as pale as a sheet, his trembling wand held up high. Her brain took forever to realize what had happened, that it was Ron who ended Bellatrix.

Hermione's eyes found his and she tried to run towards him, before she got there Ron's eyes rolled back into his head, he dropped his wand, and collapsed. She dropped to her knees and put his head in her lap, looking desperately around the room for help.

Harry and Ron were both barely conscious not five feet from each other, and her energy was fading so fast, she knew she was about to succumb to exhaustion. Her eyes found Draco's staring back at her, lying on his back by the outer wall. Still frozen solid, Hermione used Ron's wand to release Draco who got to his feet and clambered over to her.

"C-can you apparate, Draco?" Hermione asked with droopy, exhausted eyes.

"Yes," he said, holding out a timid hand, as if unsure whether or not he should touch her.

"Get me…my wand…p-please," she pointed, slouching over more. Draco searched through the debris to find her weapon, and brought it to her. She took it, and waved a lazy arc in front of her face.

"Find the duty officer at the ministry…the De-department of Law…tell them…I said," she broke, running out of breath, "Tell them…Hermione Granger said…'EXCALIBUR!'…okay?" Hermione slumped over onto her side next to Ron and Harry, and looked up at Draco's shocked face. "The duty officer will know what that means…if he doesn't, tell him to look it up. At some point he will sound an alarm, tell them where we are…do not let anyone but the Minister interrogate you himself, please!" she begged.

"What?" he gasped, kneeling down beside her, "Interrogate me? I thought,"

"Draco," she said reaching up to his face but falling short. "Excalibur means the Minister is threatened, they will arrest you, tell the minister everything; they will send an army here. You have to hurry…they are gonna wake up soon."

Draco stood up confidently, and nodded.

"Draco," Hermione whispered, looking up at him.

"These two are everything to me, please, hurry!"

Draco nodded; shot a round of stunning spells at all the unconscious forms around the room, and with a _crack_ he vanished.


	18. Chapter 17: Three Red Parchment's

Chapter 18

Three Red Parchments

Hermione jerked up from her sleep and felt a sharp pain in her shoulder. Unsure where she was, she felt constrained and opened her eyes. Lying on her back, the familiar sterile ward of St. Mungo's Hospital came into view. She rolled her eyes and lifted her head off the pillow.

An arm came into focus around her waist, as she strained to move. Her eyes sharpened and focused on Ron's red hair, which gave her some comfort knowing he was there with her. His deep breathing made him sound in a deep sleep, but she thought there was something odd in his breathing; something unnatural.

Gently, Hermione moved his arm from her waist, and as she expected, he did not stir. She painfully and gingerly sat up, feeling both her shoulder and stomach more than she would have liked. As she leaned forward into her hands her bare feet touched the chilly floor which snapped any remaining fog from her mind.

Hermione flexed her shoulder, rotating her arm around to loosen up her tight muscles. Her senses slowly began to come back to her, and her memories. With a painful lurch, she leaned back around towards Ron and after a moments pause, gently touched his face.

His skin was hot to her touch and she saw a very faint scar, barely pink, extending from the bridge of his nose down his left cheek. With the softest possible stroke, she traced the scar with the tip of her thumb. She fought back her tears as for some reason, this scar made her very sad.

Hermione heard labored movement behind her; moving just her head, she looked up to see a pajama clad Harry limping over towards her.

"Hi," she whispered, turning to look back at Ron who breathed deeply laying on his stomach.

"How are you feeling?" Harry asked softly as he stumbled into the chair at the head of her bed.

"Honestly? Terrible," she said, not looking away from Ron. She continued to touch his face gently, and caress his spiked hair.

"It was _Diffindo,_ if you can believe that." Harry informed her of the spell that cut Ron's face.

"What?" she gasped, looking up at him horrorstruck. "_Diffindo? _To the face? Who does that?"

"I know," Harry whispered, with a solemn expression, "The scarring will be at worst, minimal, so that's good. I have wondered about _Diffindo _to say, a wand hand, for example, but to the face? Bellatrix did that to scar him, and to hurt him."

"Unbelievable," Hermione gasped, leaning in toward Ron, cupping his face with both hands. "Has he been awake at all? How long has it been?" She rubbed Ron's face, the passage of time was quite obvious from his beard that was nothing more than stubble the last time she saw him.

"Four days, we've both been awake the whole time. They gave him something to help him sleep, since he won't leave you here alone." Harry laughed, which made Hermione smile softly.

"Any idea why I was out so long, you two took ten times the beating I did." She still couldn't take her eyes off Ron.

"They explained a little, for one you were exhausted, magically. Whatever you did in there, drained you completely. Second, once Serahn was in custody, whatever spells he cast on your wounds through the bullets, lifted. They said you are catching up on your healing."

"Yeah, well, I feel…" she said, grabbing her shoulder.

"Like shit, yeah, they mentioned you might." Harry laughed again.

Hermione looked up to Harry, staring up and down seeing he looked okay considering. "What's your story, Harry?"

"More broken bones, nothing major, but I think Ginny might kill us. The wedding being so close and all."

Hermione smiled, "You'll be alright, won't you? Where is she?"

Harry nodded, "She's in the States. The Harpies are at Kansas City, wherever that is."

"It's in the middle," she smiled. "Is this her last match before the wedding?"

"No, Argentina comes here at the end of the week. After that's she's done."

"No playoffs," Hermione deducted from the early end of the season. "That's a shame. Molly thinks Ginny is having her best year."

"She is, she'll have the All-Star Match on Boxing Day."

Hermione and Harry both went silent as Ron stirred. She reached out and touched his face again, which appeared to calm him.

"What did they give him?" she asked.

"Dunno," Harry admitted, rustling his own hair. "He hasn't been sleeping, since…"

"Did you see, Harry?" Hermione interrupted, asking about the battle's final moments.

"Yeah, I did. I've tried to talk to him about it, but he's being pretty tight lipped."

"Hmm," Hermione pursed her lips, letting her eyes daze into a deep thought. She wondered if their lives would ever come to this sort of violence. Hermione turned and looked towards Harry, who was leaning closer in his chair staring at Ron. "Harry, you had that horrid summer after Voldemort. Did you ever…I mean…did it ever bother you….that…um."

"What?" he smiled, unsure of her meaning.

"Well," Hermione stammered. "Did it ever bother you that you killed?"

Harry leaned back and rubbed the stubble on his face. "No, not really, but I never really felt like I killed Riddle. He killed himself, after I warned him not to. I don't think this is the same thing."

Hermione continued to stare at Ron with sympathetic eyes. She held her hands on his face while he slept, and she felt his warm breath on her skin.

"We should probably talk about the magic you did, Hermione." Harry said solemnly, breaking the depressing conversation.

"Not now, Harry," she said just above a whisper. Her eyes, now glossed over, could only see Ron who lay comatose in her hospital bed. "Oh, Ron, what have you done to yourself?"

Harry didn't speak. Hermione continued to caress Ron's face and run fingers through his hair. After a few minutes, she turned herself back around in bed and curled up next to Ron. Following an awkward silence, Harry painstakingly got to his feet and returned to his own bed. With arms and legs intertwined Hermione drifted off to sleep, lulled into a fearless slumber by Ron's rhythmic breathing.

Hermione raced through the crowds of witches and wizards who clogged the main entrance of the Ministry of Magic. She was late, and had little time for people in her way, or their less than casual stares at her Muggle attire. Yelling to hold an already full lift, she forced herself into the packed box and waited an eternity for the gates to close.

When the gates opened up on her floor she set out in a fast jog toward the Minister's office. Hermione didn't even try to subdue the racket her short platform heals were making; she hated being late, especially for the Minister. She burst through the door to his office much louder than she would have liked, and his secretary gave her a look of the same magnitude as her entrance. Trying to catch her breath, Hermione noticed movement to her side and looked over to see Harry and Ron standing up.

Ron smiled at her, and as he walked over, his hand found one of hers in a very subtle squeeze of affection. He did not kiss her, a fact Hermione was well aware of, and had not kissed her in ages.

"Thought maybe you forgot," he whispered covertly with a smile.

Hermione's cheeks flushed, mostly from her sprint, "I couldn't get away; my entire department is a mess."

Hermione spent a few quick moments explaining to Ron, and to Harry, that she was overwhelmed by all the disorganization with the Muggle Minister.

The door to the Minister's office creaked open to reveal Kingsley himself, who greeting his old friends with a warm smile. Each of them shook his hand, and they made redundant small talk before the Minister turned directly to Hermione.

"How are you feeling Hermione? Is it good to be back?" he asked with a sincerity she had always admired in the man.

"Fine thanks;" she smiled at him, "Though being away for so long, has left things a bit out of sorts."

Kingsley laughed, "I imagine so, but I am sure you can get it all sorted; you did before. Potter? Weasley? Your injuries on the mend?"

"Yes, Sir!" the both replied in unison.

"Ready for an active case load," Harry added, and Ron nodded.

"Good to hear," he smiled, "Well, this should only take a moment; if you three will follow me please." Kingsley extended an arm politely gesturing towards his office.

Hermione always thought Kingsley Shacklebolt was a charming man, and a fine politician, but there was something in his demeanor she didn't quite recognize.

She followed Harry, and then Ron inside the Ministers office. Kingsley moved behind his desk and turned to face them as Ron and Harry each started to take a seat on one of the plush couches surrounding his desk.

"Do not sit down," Kingsley barked, his face solemn, and his smile gone.

Harry and Ron halted half way down, unsure if he was serious or having a laugh. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, and the look on the Minister's face confirmed to her that was not playing.

Ron and Harry stood, adjusted their robes, and stood on either side of Hermione. Any humorous or sarcastic looks were smacked off their faces by Kingsley's authority.

"When I was made Minister," he opened, "I wondered if we would ever have this conversation."

Hermione could sense the tension between the three of them, it was quite intense. She swore should could feel Ron's ears turning red, and wondered if anyone could hear her heart pounding in her chest.

"Headmistress McGonagall told me once that you three have been inseparable since you were first years." The Minister continued, without interruption. "I don't think I need to go over the great things you have done for this Ministry, or for Muggles. With that said, I know this has been a trying year for both Miss Granger, and you Mister Weasley, so I am wondering, are you still just as close?"

None of them dared answer.

"I mean, do each of you…well…are each of you, still just as close as you were back when you stopped Tom Riddle? Do you still speak for each other, and back each other up unconditionally?"

There was a long pause of silence, but the look on the Minister's face seemed to imply he wanted an answer. Hermione looked towards Ron, who was already looking at her, and then the both turned towards Harry, who nodded slightly.

"Yes," Ron said in a weak whisper.

Kingsley's face made a smile that looked neither happy, nor joyous. If anything it looked strained. Hermione watched as he reached for a red piece of parchment off his desk. The Minister tapped it twice with his wand, and the single parchment morphed into three identical ones. He took a deep breath and looked up staring directly at Ron.

"I appreciate the honesty in your report Mister Weasley, as well as yours Mister Potter and Miss Granger. I am, however, quite disturbed by each of your actions.

"For one, Weasley, yes, I have given you, and every other Auror permission to use Unforgivable Curses. This is a luxury and a necessary tool for your work. Using the Cruciatus Curse on a Muggle, interrogating him without anyone from this office present, using questionable interrogation tactics, these are actions I absolutely will not tolerate!"

Kingsley stepped out from behind his desk moving directly in front of Ron so that their noses were barely apart. He stared down at Ron with a look that made Hermione sick to her stomach.

"Do you think you are above the law, Weasley? Do you think that the rules do not apply to you because of who you are, or who your friends are?"

Ron didn't answer, instead remained as still as a statue staring right past the Minister.

"The only thing that may save you, Weasley, is that this man is a Muggle. He's been locked in the Imperious Curse for almost twenty years. This means he will not be tried for Attempted Murder in this court or any other.

Hermione was sure Ron would react to the Minister's words, but surprisingly he did not.

"We are researching the possibility of a long term memory charm to erase his entire involvement with Serahn. If we do erase his memory, all evidence of your actions against him will also be gone. You may get lucky Weasley, but I know what you did, and no one will be erasing my memories."

Kingsley turned, repositioning himself to tower over Harry.

"What part of me ordering you to report changes regarding the Elder Wand was unclear Potter? Which part of Weasley disarming you doesn't constitute something you promised you would tell me? Has your word transfigured into something worthless, Potter, or are my orders binding to everyone in the magical community except these two?"

As Hermione feared, the Minister positioned himself in front of her next. "You knew something was going on, Granger. You knew something wasn't right, but you kept it all to yourself, not even your supervisors knew what you feared. Your job is to make us understand, even when you don't. A threat to the Muggle Minister is a threat to all Brittan's including us. I," he raised his voice to a yell, "I will determine what is relevant and what is not, and my and my staff will validate any threat! We are here to support YOU!" he screamed, pointing a finger in her face, "but you have to get us the information that will allow us to do our jobs!

Kingsley moved back behind his desk, but continued to yell. "You three, you run around like this entire Ministry is some tool you use, when in reality we have a chain of command. I don't know if you have noticed this or not, Potter, Granger, Weasley, but none of you are Minister yet."

The Minister took a deep breath, which appeared to Hermione, to calm him down and allow him to collect himself.

"This is a Formal Reprimand." He said, picking up the three pieces of red parchment, and reading from the top. "'For insubordinate, and questionable actions in regards to the arrest of the Muggle Thomas Howard, a.k.a, the wizard Serahn, and six others.' This lays out in detail what each of you has done, only for the sake of the public, is this meeting being held in private. You should know that each of your actions could potentially warrant a trail, but instead, I am reprimanding you myself, and these letters will stay in my personal files until such time as you force me to make them public.

Hermione was staring at the floor now, and she could tell Harry and Ron were each doing the same. None of them breathed.

"The entire wizarding world may think of you as heroes, but you three just burned that bridge with me. I could fire you, some might say that I should, but I think," he paused, taking a softer tone, "that this may motivate you, to be even better than you are."

Hermione looked up and found the ministers eyes. She could barely breathe, and her palms felt sweaty, locked behind her back.

"This is your one screw up, and now you have made it. As Minister the authority is mine to punish you as I see fit, and I am doing just that. If by chance, my orders are not perfectly clear, and you three find yourselves in my office for a similar situation, I assure you there will be a trial, and this reprimand will be evidence used against you.

"Now, do any of you have anything you would like to say? No? Then as far as I am concerned, this issue is dropped," Kingsley continued, sliding open a drawer in his desk and placing the red parchments inside. "There is no need to discuss this reprimand with anyone, including yourselves. I have no desire to hear how sorry you are or how this will never happen again. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Sir!" each of them belted, quite loudly.

"Now, two other points of business before I dismiss you. One, Weasley, although there will be no record of Bellatrix Lestrange coming back, I want you to know that we pensive'd Draco Malfoy's memories, and it is the consensus of myself and my staff that her death was justified. Do not think, that my mention of Unforgivable Curse's earlier included that one, because that was a clean kill."

"No kill is clean, Minister," Ron interrupted just above a whisper. Hermione turned at looked at him, and could see his eyes out of focus.

"Two," the Minister continued, not addressing Ron's comment. "I have read your reports on the Malfoy factor. Am I to understand, after everything his family has done, you are recommending he be pardoned?"

"Minister," Hermione spoke, her voice shaky from such a prolonged silence. "He really did risk everything to help us. If he would have failed, and Bellatrix Lestrange lived, he would have paid dearly for betraying her."

"You two agree with that statement?" Kingsley asked of Ron and Harry, who both nodded. "I am still not sure I am prepared to pardon the young man, but I appreciate your honesty. I am sure it was a challenge for you all dealing with him again."

Kingsley shuffled a few parchments on his desk before taking a seat in his executive chair. Hermione heard Ron exhale a breath that sounded like he had been holding it for ages.

"Relax," Kingsley smiled, "That part is over. On another note," he said, leaning back and placing the hands behind his bald head. "The Muggle Minister has asked me personally to award you three Commendations for your bravery. However, I am going to sit and think on that bit for a while. I do want you to know, as I am sure you are aware, that you three are without a doubt, the future of the Ministry. I hope I have made myself clear, you are not above the law, and in future, I hope your actions are worthy of your reputations as being both extremely powerful and extremely just.

Hermione nodded, and hoped her friends were too.

"Potter, your wedding is approaching, when does your leave start?"

"Three days, Minister."

"If you would like, you may start your leave now. I am sure Miss Weasley would love to have you around for last minute emergencies."

"Thank you, Minister, I would like that."

"Potter, if, after this meeting you would prefer another wizard preside over your wedding, please let Missus Hellmann know on your way out so she can remove the engagement from my schedule."

"Uh," Harry stammered in shock, "No, Minister, Ginny and I want you to do it, please."

Kingsley nodded with a very faint smile, "Mister Weasley, since I am sure your entire family is in an uproar, you may start your leave early as well."

"Thank you, Minister," Ron smiled.

"Miss Granger, sadly, you and I need to get your department back in order. Is there any chance I can ask you to forgo some of your leave? I know I can revoke it, but I thought if I just asked nicely."

"Yes, of course Minister, but I would like to participate at some point."

"And you will," he smiled, "I just need a few days, if you can be bothered."

"Of course."

"Potter, Weasley, you two are dismissed, enjoy your holiday, and I will see you on the big day. Miss Granger, if you have a few hours, I would like to begin immediately."

Ron and Harry had already turned to leave, when Ron halted, hearing the Minister holding Hermione back.

She turned and looked at him, and gave a reassuring smile. Ron smiled back a fake, surrendering look before leaving with Harry.

Kingsley motioned for her to take seat, as he sat down across from her.

"There are quite a few things I wish to discuss with you, Hermione," Kingsley began, once Harry and Ron were out of his office and the door closed behind them. "Most of which have nothing to do with the Muggle Minister. Tell me, where do you see yourself in five years?"


	19. Chapter 18: Forgiveness

Chapter 18

Forgiveness

With a _pop, _Hermione arrived at the beachside apparition point on _Palma de Mallorca, _pseudo Mallorca Island off the southern coast of Spain. Her feet landed in sand, which made her sudden appearance at this resort a tad more unstable than most, but she collected herself in fine fashion. An involuntary reach to her stomach, more out of habit than anything, the only sign her arrival was anything other than expected.

A few quick steps put Hermione on the footpath of cobblestones leading to the reception area of her hotel; she moved inside to settle in. A quick glance around the resort showed very few people, which made Hermione much more comfortable; even in this place which was reserved for the magical community.

Hermione apparated here directly from Downing Street in London, and she was happy to arrive and officially put the last few weeks into the past. It had been a rough time, and a rough ten months for her. Nearly dying, losing Ron, and apprehending Serahn, Hermione was happy to be officially on vacation.

She was in Mallorca for the Potter-Weasley wedding that the _Daily Prophet _was hailing as the wedding of the millennia. Four days from now, her two best friends would take a bond for life, and she couldn't be more excited for them.

Hermione moved into the reception area of the hotel and checked into her room, while thoughts of the week's festivities filled her mind. No matter how excited she tried to be for Ginny and Harry, she was still plagued by recent events. Serahn was in Azkaban, and sadly his interrogation answered few questions about his operation. He proved an accomplished Occlumens, revealing neither his connections with Muggle terrorist operations, nor the level of involvement which Jonas Quaid, Hermione's deceased partner, was involved. After much internal deliberation, Hermione used her authority to classify the investigation into Jonas, to preserve his name for his surviving family.

Hermione choked back these work related thoughts as the bellhop took her bags from her. Stuffed in the pocket of her Muggle suit was her room key, and although she was seriously overdressed for a tropical outing, the woman at the front desk informed her that many of the Potter-Weasley party were still in the restaurant. Hermione listened for quick directions then headed out on foot to find her wizarding family.

Walking through the sand in platform shoes was a chore, but soon she heard happy voices and walked up on twenty or more people enjoying drinks and laughs in the outside eatery. As she reached the steps leading up to the deck and looked to the crowd of people for familiar faces Hermione was nearly stampeded by a running Victoire followed closely by Bill Weasley. Hermione halted and laughed as the little blonde girl ran up the stairs into the arms of her grandmother. Molly, unaware of Hermione's arrival, scooped up Victoire as Bill appeared to give up chasing his daughter.

"Hi, Bill" Hermione said softly.

A little out of breath, Bill smiled and leaned in to kiss Hermione on the cheek. He seemed a little flushed from a drink or two, but maintained his composure none the less. Hermione, not terribly in the mood for casual conversation asked Bill for the whereabouts of the one Weasley Hermione was desperate to see.

"Ron walked towards the beach," Bill said, pointing the way, "Not two minutes ago."

Hermione thanked Bill politely, and asked him to let Ginny and Harry know she was here, privately. With a polite nod, Bill stepped up into the party, while Hermione escaped into the darkness in search of Ron.

As the lights dimmed from the restaurant in the distance, a small fire light came into view on the beach almost immediately. Hermione adjusted course, and quickly found a campfire with one occupant. As she got closer, she was quite ecstatic to see a silhouette fitting Ron's frame just a few feet from the crashing surf. As she confirmed it was him visually, she walked forward noisily sure she did not startle him.

"Hi," she said, quite nervously.

Ron looked over his shoulder at his intruder, and quickly got to his feet once he realized it was Hermione. "Hey you!" He said excitedly, getting to his feet and reaching out to give her a big hug.

His arms wrapped around her too perfectly, and the embrace warmed her core more than this tropical climate ever could.

"When did you get here?" he asked as he released the hug. "I've missed you."

"Just now," she answered, observing that such an affectionate greeting lacked the ceremonial kiss upon conclusion. "What are you doing out here alone?"

"I nicked a bottle of mental, thought I might get pissed." Ron said, holding up a bottle of dark wine. "Have a seat, love, I am really glad you are here." As they sat down in the sand, around the conjured fire, Ron laid back and pulled the cork of the wine out with his teeth and took a swig.

"What's up?" she asked, curiously.

"Oh, same old, my kid sister is here to get married."

"Yeah, I heard, you okay with that?" Hermione answered and asked without hesitation.

"Yeah, Potter's alright." Ron snorted with a laugh, taking another big pull of wine before handing the bottle to Hermione.

"Yeah, he is, isn't he," she giggled taking the bottle, and putting it to her lips. "You look," Hermione wiped her lips after taking a smaller swig, "like you have a lot more on your mind than some hero marrying your sister."

"Probably," Ron agreed taking the bottle out of her hand.

"How far are you ahead of me?" she inquired, trying her best to not be condescending.

"Not too far," Ron laughed, "but a ways."

Hermione took the bottle from Ron pressing it to her lips and taking a big gulp of the red wine. "Ronald," she said, making point to use his full name, "Let's talk. I mean, lets quit bullshitting each other, shall we?"

Ron's eyes quickly found Hermione's as he watched her take another sip of wine.

"I have been in constant contact with Ginny this last week; she says you're drinking like a man possessed. I know I have been busy, but it's all sorted now. We haven't talked about anything, and well, lets face it, a lot has happened."

"Yeah," Ron replied with a sigh, showing no signs of wanting to take the lead in the conversation.

"I am open to hear anything you want to say, as I can see something is bothering you, but I would really like to talk about you and me, too."

Ron didn't make eye contact with her, choosing to sit up and toss another stick into the fire. "Hermione, I want your word."

"On?"

"If we are going to talk, it has to be just that, talk." Ron made a conscious effort to not look at her. "I want your word that nothing I say will piss you off, and that nothing I say, or anything we say will turn into an argument. I mean, if we are really going to talk, it has to be just that; communication. We have to be able to say what we are really thinking-feeling, or this is just a waste of time."

Hermione thought for a moment before responding, "Okay, Ronald. I am game if you are."

"I am fine," Ron said leaning back in the sand and scooting next to her. "I am really glad you are finally here."

Hermione smiled a silly little embarrassed smile at his compliment. "Alright, what are you thinking?"

Ron leaned back into the sand and ran his hands over his face. After a few seconds of brushing a few arrant grains of the beach out of his face, his opened his eyes and stared straight up into the cloudless sky.

"Well?" Hermione asked taking another sip.

"I am thinking if," Ron paused, looking away from her, "If I need to make a Horcrux?"

"What?" Hermione gasped, placing her hand over her mouth quickly as if she hadn't expected to speak.

"I used Avada Kadavra, Hermione, did I just split my soul? God, I wish I could talk to Dumbledore."

"Ron?" Hermione had no air in her lungs, she never imagined he would say what he said.

"I haven't slept since that night, not without help," he said, holding up the bottle and taking another big gulp from it. Hermione reached over, and took the bottle from him making sure her fingers touched his.

"I have noticed," she affirmed. "After I got out of St. Mungo's and before you came here, I noticed. You stayed with me every night, but you rarely kiss me, you definitely won't touch me, and I know you aren't sleeping."

"Oh my god, what did I do?" Ron bellowed, sitting up and dropping his face into his hands.

"You saved me," she answered quickly, "Kingsley said it was clean, but is that what you are really worried about?"

"We know what Riddle did, and how he did it; now here I am filled with fear."

"Fear of what, Ron?"

"Fear of what I have done, damnit!" Ron picked up a handful of sand and threw it into the fire. Hermione leaned back, away from him, and readjusted her strategy.

"Why did you cast it?"

Ron looked at her, confused. Her question obviously caught him off guard. "Why did I what? Why did I kill her?"

"Yes, of the eight thousand spells you know of, of the eight thousand spells you could have cast, why did you choose that one?"

"Because it was her, or you. Damnit!" Ron's voice broke as he leaned forward into his own hands. Hermione thought about putting an arm around him, but at the last second, opted against it.

"Okay, all this guilt, because you have taken a life. If I broke out the Time Turner, and took you back to that moment, what would you do?"

Ron thought for a moment before answering, "The same bloody thing."

"Okay, Ron," she said affectionately, "then why are you so upset? Does that act not seem noble to you? If there was ever a time to kill, where it would be justified, do you not think that was it?"

"Hermione, I –"

"Auror's have this power for a reason, Ron, you are allowed to –"

"Those were just words! Damnit! I now live in a world where I have taken a life! Fuck!" Ron snatched the bottle of wine from Hermione, and nearly broke a tooth slamming it to his lips.

"Ron?"

"What?"

"Look at me." She asked.

He didn't, instead shifting his gaze to the sand where his hands were meddling.

"Ron, look at me." Hermione reached out for him, but he pulled away. "Ronald?"

"I can't!" he screamed, pulling further away.

"Do you think I am ashamed of what you did, Ron?"

Ron's face was turned completely away from her, but she could hear his forced breathing mixed with a running nose.

"Look at me, Ron, please."

Finally, he turned to Hermione and showed her his tear stricken face.

"So much pain," she said reaching out to touch his cheek, "for a man with the emotional range of a teaspoon."

"Ha!" Ron laughed as be broke her gaze. As he pulled his face away, her hand on his cheek prevented him from turning away fully. For a brief second they stared into each others eyes.

"I killed someone Hermione," he said, and broke down in a cackle of tears.

Ron leaned into her, burying his head into her chest. Hermione wrapped both arms around him, and held her lover while the pain of his actions flowed to the surface. After a few moments, he sat back.

"I read in a book once," Hermione began, causing Ron to laugh and look away. "Shut up! I read once, that Auror's are given this right as a last resort. To use Unforgivable Curses, in matters where they see fit. If I am not mistaken, that right was given by the Minister of Magic himself. In fact, the Minister affirmed his order when he chewed us out."

Ron sat up and looked her directly in the eyes.

"If this ever happens again, or this situation presents itself again to you, I am quite confident the Ministry has the right wizard for the job because you fear not the consequences of your actions by any law making authority; you are tortured by the moral implications of your magic. Ron, I have never been where you are, but what you did what right out of Harry's book."

"What? Harry? Huh?"

"You did what you thought was right, regardless of what it may mean for you. That is not a disgusting, immoral or heinous act. It's noble and righteous. How could such an act be something so dark that it would rip the foundations of your soul. Forgive me Ron, but that's just illogical."

"So I am being a fool now, huh?"

"Hey it was you who said I couldn't get mad, so pour yourself a nice big glass of 'Shut the hell up!'"

Ron laughed as he grabbed the bottle of wine out of the sand, and tipped it almost completely upside down. Once he lowered the bottle, Hermione reached out with her wand and refilled it with a _tap_.

"Do you think," Hermione took the bottle from him, and took another drink, "that I am going to judge you because you saved my life?"

Ron shook his head.

"Do you think, that I think any less of you because of what you did?"

Ron looked at her.

"Do you think, that your children—"

"Oh, you may not even be able to have kids, don't even start with that shit."

Hermione was literally stunned to her soul by his words. She dropped her head, breaking her intense eye contact with him, and put both hands on the neck of the wine bottle. Ron seemed to realize what he had said.

"Wow, Hermione," Ron gasped, "That was out of my mouth before I even --, Wow, Hermione, forgive me, that was…wow….I sincerely apologize."

A more genuine set of words had never escaped the lips of Ron Weasley, and she forgave him for them instantly. With a smile she looked up at him and winked.

"If you are concerned with what I think, pertaining to the second death of Bellatrix Lestrange. I think, you acted bravely, quite nobly, and that is really my only comment on the subject. You did, what the Ministry trained you to do, and what was right. It was her or me, and frankly, I am glad you chose the spell you did. Truthfully, I am rather fond of breathing."

"After everything you have ever said about Unforgivable Curses, why are you going easy on me?" Ron made a valid point, Hermione had always held a firm stand on this particular aspect of magic.

"I think," Hermione paused, putting her lips to the wine bottle, "there are times, and reasons for…" she broke off, unsure how to finish. Ron smiled at her calmness, and rationalization. He reached for the wine as Hermione sat up and changed the subject. She pulled out her wand, and held her hand in front of him.

"I changed my grip," she stated, trying desperately to alter the subject.

"Oh, nice," Ron said, grabbing her wand hand and rotating it around. The Auror in him took over immediately, and pulled him out of his emotional pity party. "You should find that there's a lot more dexterity and finesse in this kind of grip. The other style is so, I don't know, blunt."

"I don't know what happened," she laughed, moving her hand around, holding her wand by her fingertips. "It just sort of came to me, and strength in my spells was amazing." Hermione snapped her wand making gold sparkles trail around as she moved.

"You know," Ron said, grabbing her wrist and raising her elbow to adjust her form, "the magic you did there, at the end, was stuff of legend. It really was amazing."

"After you ripped my ass on the roof of my flat, I honestly didn't know what to think, but watching you and Harry." Hermione broke to take the bottle of wine from Ron and take another drink. "You two were amazing, but watching you, your form, and your skill—"

"Oh shut it," Ron laughed.

"No, seriously," Hermione pushed his shoulder, playfully, "I was mesmerized, it was like slow motion. Your stuff was right out of a textbook, perfect form and execution. I was really impressed. In fact, I am a little stunned I didn't see it before."

"Well," Ron cut off his own sentence, trying not to rub her nose in their relationship problems.

"I'm really sorry, Ron. I should have seen, I should have known, but I just got it in my head that you were—"

"Incompetent."

"For lack of a better word, yeah, I guess. You and Harry wore Bellatrix out, and when Harry went down, you didn't even flinch, you just kept working her, damn; I wish you could have seen it from my eyes."

"She was really tough," Ron admitted, "whether or not I could have beaten her, well, I don't know, but I certainly didn't feel out of control. My brain was just in the zone."

"Does it bother you that she tricked you?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious.

"No, not really," he laughed. "I try not to get upset about falling into someone's trap. I just make a point not to repeat it, you know?"

"Regardless, that fight was quite a site; I may have to pensive that memory of watching, and let others see it, love." Hermione reached out and touched his arm; she was ready to get into the subject that brought her to the beach.

"Thanks," Ron said bashfully. "It was an interesting series of events, but do you want to know what really impressed me?"

"What's that?"

"When I was barking orders to you, we didn't argue, not even a little bit."

"I was totally out of element Ron, I was looking to you, and to Harry for help, why would I argue?"

"I don't know Hermione, we spent the last year of our relationship arguing about everything."

"Our friends often use words like 'stubborn' and 'thick headed' to describe us Ron, but I didn't realize until you pointed it out in February." Hermione at last had the subject changed and she hoped he wouldn't drift from it.

"We really are a good team, when we aren't fighting each other Hermione." Ron continued as Hermione's nerves shifted in to high gear.

"We are an amazing team, Ron, so is there a reason you won't kiss me?" She asked while staring intently into his eyes for the slightest flutter of reassurance. "I woke up in the hospital with you there telling me it would be okay. Months have gone by Ron, and I am beginning to think you like things the way they are between us."

"Oh, no, Hermione," Ron jerked up in the sand, "that's not it all. So much has happened, stuff I have to work out inside my own head."

Hermione sat herself up straight and grabbed the bottle of wine from him, simply to have something to do with her hands. "You left me almost ten months ago, Ron, how much more time do you need? Why not talk to me, and tell me what you are feeling? At least for my sake, because sorting it by yourself is not happening very quickly, and you seem tormented by it."

"Do you really want to hear it? I mean really? Because you're right, I am about to explode, and you're the only person I have ever really shared stuff with. Can you handle anything I say?"

"I'm a big girl Ron, as long as you aren't ditching me for good, we can work out the rest, can't we."

Ron sat up and crossed his legs in the beach. From inside one of the pockets of his robes, he produced a pack of cigarettes and his wand. "Sorry, it helps the nerves," he smiled as he lit a cigarette and took a deep soothing drag. As he let out a deep breath, Hermione remained quiet. She sat herself up and matched his cross legged stance ensuring to move herself directly in front of him. They sat facing each other, less than a foot apart. Ron raised his head, and their eyes met.

"You almost died on me Hermione Granger," Ron's eyes glazed over immediately.

"Oh, Ron," she bellowed, leaning in to touch his face. She nearly kissed him, but stopped at the last possible moment.

"I have turned into a pretty strong wizard, I think," Ron continued, in between puffs of smoke. "But there is a limit, and I think I have found it. I am not strong enough for that."

"For what?" Hermione asked in a soft tone, "me dying?"

"Yeah, basically."

"Everyone dies eventually, Ron, I am not immortal."

"Oh, immortal, brilliant! Can you make a Philosopher's (Sorcerers) Stone? That would solve everything!"

"He's got jokes," she laughed taking another pull off the wine bottle.

"You know I think you are the brightest witch, or wizard, around right?" Hermione didn't answer, but did add a nod. "And that's not because I am sleeping with you, or anything. I mean, you know I think you are the best around, magically, right?"

"Sleeping with?" Hermione added with a smile, "Do you have some sort of agenda I need to know about?"

"You know what I mean, love. You know I think you really are the best around, regardless of our personal involvement."

"If you say so, but thanks." Hermione smiled again.

"I guess," Ron's tone softened to just above a whisper. "I guess, I just can't handle you in the thick of it, I think. I know, I know, sexist, blah, blah, it's not supposed to be, but I just don't think I can handle you being at risk. I hate myself for saying it, but look what happened to me when you were nearly killed."

"These are valid points Ron," Hermione began carefully, "and I am so glad you are sharing them, but I have to point out there is risk everywhere, whether as an Auror on active duty, or sitting in library somewhere, there is risk. You can't lock me up in a tower to protect me, Ron."

"There has got to be a middle ground, then. I swear I would have killed that Muggle had you not stopped me. I just think I would go mental if I thought you were involved in any of the shit Harry and I see daily."

"So, saying you would go mental, if I was an active Auror, I am curious how someone involved with you, is supposed to deal with your profession."

"I didn't say it was right, and I certainly did not say it was fair."

"It's okay, Ron," she said, reaching out to touch his face and return his eyes back to hers. "This is good; we are talking, and its okay. Are you looking for some sort of guarantee, or promise no one will ever try to attack me again, because that's a bit foolish, don't you think?"

Ron struggled for a minute with his words, taking nervous drinks of wine while trying to process his thought. "I could never do this, or ask this of you, but a big part of me wants you off the Minister's detail. I want you out of harms way. You may be strong enough to deal with me being an Auror, but I certainly am not strong enough to do the same. Please, please, do not yell at me." Ron's face grimaced as he obviously was preparing for a verbal assault.

Hermione didn't seem to mind at all, "why would I yell at you for telling me what you are feeling, Ron?"

"I don't know, you are just so determined, in your career, Hermione. I don't want to stand in your way."

"You know, I think it was your mother who told me that being together is about figuring out how two people, can live one life. Sure, when I closed my eyes at Hogwart's I dreamed big dreams, and I still have those. I could have gone on to many departments, and probably done very well. Say Muggle Relations for one, but going there when they offered, would take things away from me I wasn't prepared to sacrifice. The same thing applies here. Could I be an Auror like you, sure, I think so, I think I would be okay, but I am not prepared to give up the important things in my life, just to see that through."

"Kingsley asked you to join us full time, didn't he?"

"Yes, but I told him no," Hermione smiled, "almost immediately for the record."

"I don't want you to have to settle, because I am mental."

"I am not settling, Ron, I make the decisions that are best for me. If you and I are together, then I will make the decisions that are best for us. That's not to say," Hermione laughed, "that I will make the decisions for us, but that I take more than career progression into account. Does that make sense?"

"You have returned to the Minister's detail, though?"

"I have, yes, for now. This is actually something I wanted to talk to you about, and probably why I came looking for you tonight."

"What's up?" Ron asked. His question did need answering, but Hermione couldn't help but cringe as she let him off the subject of their relationship.

"Kingsley and I had a long talk the other day, about my future."

"And?" Ron asked.

"Well, I told him, I thought I was time I moved on, or began to think about moving on from the Minister's Protection Detail."

"Okay,"

"Well, we discussed a few options, one of which was in the Department of Magical Law enforcement."

"Yeah, being an Auror, that I heard."

"There was another option, well a few others, but one that stood out."

"You are killing me here, Hermione, spit it out."

"Senior Undersecretary to the Minister."

"What?" Ron gasped, "Hermione, holy shit, are you serious?"

"Keyrin Thomas is going to be retiring soon, perhaps with in few years. Kingsley asked me to consider coming in and being Thomas's assistant, and then if all goes well, taking over for him when he retires."

"That's second in command, Hermione, holy shit!"

"Kingsley wants me to start moving into political circles, and begin to make a name for myself legislatively, so if I ever did venture into politics I would have more than just, well, my combat record."

Ron thought for a moment before speaking, which gave him time for another sip of wine and the final drag off his spent cigarette. "I guess my question is, what do you think about such an offer?"

"Well, it's promising, obviously," she began, straightening up and fiddling with her hair. Hermione always fiddled with the right side of her hair when she was contemplating something. "I think I could do a lot of good there, but I just couldn't leave the Muggle Minister until I got the team sorted. I would need to find a replacement for Jonas, as well as train my replacement. Neither of those things can be done quickly."

"If I know you, you probably have a short list in mind of candidates." Ron smiled at her, reaching out and taking her hand.

"I may have a resume or two to look over," she laughed, knowing there were a few more than two back in her hotel room. "But also, Headmistress MacGonagall, thinks I could have a future at Hogwarts if I wanted it."

"Yes, she said she wanted to talk to you. I may have forgotten to mention that. I forget." He laughed, as the wine began to have a more noticeable effect.

"I think I have a lot of options," she beamed, "options that seem more grey than I would have thought, considering."

"What do you want Hermione," Ron asked, tapping his wand on the bottle of wine. The conversation had gone almost as quickly as the wine, but Hermione refused to let this opportunity slip through her fingers.

"What I want, is simple, Ron," she answered, taking the wine from him for one last sip of bravery. "I want you."

Ron didn't seem to react to her words, but their gaze did not break. He stared into her eyes without blinking, while his body refused to breathe. Finally, after an eternity to Hermione, he smiled. "I am right here, love, holding your hand."

His words were a permission slip for her, finally allowing her to really open up about her feelings. "Ron, since I was shot, you haven't left my side. You kissed me, when I woke up, but I have been blessed with only three kisses since then, and I think those were not planned. You cared for me, and treated my wounds before we went to see Serahn, and that was utterly amazing. You hold me at night, but you refuse to touch me as if you are afraid of something. When I fall asleep in your arms, you are not at peace. So, I want you back, you, Ronald Weasley, back with me. I am not ashamed to admit it, or ask for it, but you are holding something back. Something that is preventing you from loving me in return."

"Loving you?" he gasped, "As if!" Ron laughed, but Hermione was keen enough to notice he had broken their eye contact for the first time in minutes.

"Ronald? Do you love me?" she asked, forcing the issue.

"So much, it hurts," he answered, looking back into her eyes.

"Then say it, please."

"I love you, Hermione." Ron answered without hesitation.

"Then why all the drama?" she smiled at him, "What has your wand all in a knot? Have I not shown you how differently I see you now, have I not at last seen the quality I was missing? What else do I have to do?"

"My god, Hermione, this isn't about you!" Ron shouted angrily. The tone of the conversation was desperately on the verge of spiraling down out of control.

"Then what is it about?" she asked, searching desperately for an answer. Her mind whirled and searched for some possible explanation. "Is it because I cannot have children now?"

"What?" The look of start on Ron's face confused her. "When did the doctors ever say you couldn't have children?"

"Well, they didn't but I know there will be issues, and you knew better than anyone how I felt about children of my own."

"Yes, and I also know how you feel about having decisions made for you."

Hermione looked into the fire, breaking his stare to try and collect herself. _Did it really all come down to children, is that the only obstacle? _She asked herself. _Are we doomed because of what was done to me?_

"Ron, if I told you I could not, or would not have children, would that affect us being together?" Still staring into the fire, Hermione feared this may be what was holding him back. Ron came for an enormous family, where children are a fact of life. She however, was an only child, and deep down inside had never dreamt of children until the day doctors told her she might not have any.

Ron reached forward and grabbed both of her hands, and with a sarcastic smile he beamed at her. "You are missing the point, love. Any relationship we have, would be based on our ability to make each other happy." He squeezed both of her hands. "Children, careers, galleons or whatever have nothing on happiness."

"Then what will make you happy, Ron," Hermione begged, "because I am seriously lost here."

There was a long pause before Ron finally spoke, "Forgiveness," he said finally. "Forgiveness, and communication."

"What?"

"You ripped my shit for the unforgivables, which I say should include Bellatrix Lestrange. I ask for your forgiveness, your honest forgiveness for what I did."

"Ron, I—"

"I need you to forgive me, for what I have done, and what I may do one day because I am a prat. I need to know that no matter what, you will forgive me. That no matter how much of an idiot I may be, you will still love me, and forgive me."

Hermione was beginning to understand where he was coming from. "If I am going to forgive you, for all this, I need some thing from you, then."

"Such as," he said, taking a big swig of drink before reaching for his smokes.

"I need you to forgive me, love," Hermione gushed as tears finally entered their conversation. "Forgive me, for getting all wrapped up in some retarded issue and forgetting to kiss you. Forgive me, because I cannot cook anything except mashed potatoes. Our time in the forest looking for Horcruxes should prove my point. I need you to forgive me, when I get so caught up in something I swear is important, I forget, and miss out on something that really is important."

"I need an ally," Ron smiled, as the distance between them began to shrink, "Someone who is without hesitation, on my side, unconditionally."

"Well I need someone to ground me, and help me focus on the things that really are important."

"It sounds to me like we need each other then," Ron smirked flipping away his cigarette.

Hermione paused, thinking of how to word her last remaining thought. "Ronald, why won't you touch me?"

He didn't answer instead he looked down at their interlocked hands before gazing back up into her eyes. "We live very busy lives, you and I, don't we? We are accomplished, skilled, and for much of the wizarding world, they look to us, no?."

"Wow, Ron, that's um, wow!" Hermione knew his words were not meant to sound so cocky, but she couldn't help but feel a little ashamed.

"We are, who we are," he continued anyway, "Our lives are exciting and dangerous, but I just don't think we would be ourselves if it was any other way, you think?"

"I suppose not," she smiled, staring at his lips.

"I know you can't promise this, Hermione, but please, try your best to not die on me, okay? I just don't think I could –"

Hermione moved forward, and was kissing him before she even realized what she was doing. It had been ten months of exile; the ten loneliest months of her life, and now she was kissing him. He kissed her back, and reached out to pull her closer. Their tongues danced soft, flirty exchanges; Hermione was thrilled to finally feel him kiss her with passion and desire, it had been way too long.

Ron broke their kiss, and sat back taking a moment to blink himself back into a state of control. With both hands he patted his chest, as if looking for something and continued his pats around various other pockets. Hermione reached into the sand, and handed him his cigarettes, which he accepted with a smile.

After lighting a cigarette, he was taken aback by her taking it from his fingers for herself. With a smirk, he lit another one and winked at her. After two long drags, he shifted to face her once again.

"Aurors do alright, in galleons, you know." Ron said, with a soft smile that made Hermione only want to kiss him more. "I have never really had anything, that was mine, you know, having so many brothers.

Hermione dared not speak, still unsure what he was getting at.

"Do you love me Hermione? I mean, I do love you, so much, but will you say it?"

"I love you with all of my heart Ron, and I have missed you so much."

He grabbed her hands, again.

"As Weasley's you sort of accept that everything once belonged to someone else, but one thing I always swore to myself is that I would start traditions of my own, for my family. I would make, and do things, that were mine, and my own traditions."

"Okay?"

"I am going to say something, Hermione, and it is from the heart." Ron paused, staring at her, letting the effect set in. "I am quite done being your boyfriend."

She did trust him, and his words, but her heart still fluttered as fear took hold of her gut.

Ron opened his hands, inside hers to reveal a small velvet box he concealed in his palm. Hermione felt the air slipping out of her lungs.

"Before you get all upset, love, I took the ring I showed you in February back to the jeweler. There was something, not right, about it.

Hermione couldn't speak, or move, or breathe.

"The stone I picked for us, as our legacy. Something you and I could share, and would stand the test of time. I asked the jeweler to remove the stone, as I searched for a new setting."

Ron still had not opened the box, and Hermione, sitting there, holding his hands, had still not taken a breath.

"It was Bill who introduced me, but really it was your doing. The respect you had earned in this community, made my quest easier. In fact, they almost insisted."

Hermione's face showed a curious, teary look as Ron, at last, opened the box for her to see. Inside sat a beautiful, center cut diamond, set in an elaborate twisting silver design. Ron reached two fingers into the box, and pulled the ring out for her.

"The stone, is a rare, Red Diamond, and I chose it for you because like Harry, you have been a part of my family since the day you stepped foot in the Burrow. If you ever doubt that, all you have to do is look at the red in it."

Hermione's glazed eyes began to stream over onto her cheeks, but still, being resolute, she dared not speak.

"Thanks to Bill," Ron continued, "And your reputation with all magical creatures, two Goblin jewelers volunteered their services saying, 'It would be their honor.' If you notice, there are two distinct twists of polished metal to make up the setting. One was forged by the goblin Ablib, who set in its core a charm to block errant curses and jinxes. Used most often in shields, he said it was quite a challenge to encase it in such a small piece; which makes this unique. The wearer should find themselves relatively protected as this charm turns even the most accurate shots into glancing blows."

Hermione's face was soaked, and as she looked from the ring in his fingers to his face, she was reassured to see his fingers tremble and that Ron too had a few errant tears. She gushed a smile of love, as Ron continued.

"The second twist, I had to search for, and honestly, was the reason I set out to find a new ring. In the goblin, well, I cannot pronounce his name, but he goes by the name Tag, I found the charm I was looking for. In the silver strand that blinks with the gold trim, there is a charm." Ron paused again, and cleared his throat. "For fertility."

Hermione sat in silence, clearly stunned.

"If we never have children, I will die a happy wizard if you are my wife, but just in case you ever fancy, or dream. Goblin lore states this particular charm is quite effective in even the direst of circumstances. Given the nature of your injuries, I thought you might like the option, all you ever have to do is twist the ring right three times around your finger and the charm is active."

"Finally, inside. Inside there is a message from you, one that is directly from me. They inscribed it in runes, as you are like, the only person on the planet who can read what it says."

Hermione leaned forward and peered into the band of the ring. Her eyes bounced back and forth over the symbols as the last remaining tears in her body were born in her eyes. With a lurch, she hurled herself at Ron kissing his lips and wrapping her arms around him.

His words, the inscription meant the world to her, and as he broke their embrace she tried desperately to catch her breath.

"Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?" He asked, holding her so close she couldn't even see the ring anymore.

"Yes!" she screamed, louder than intended. As she looked down at her hand, she watched as her future husband slid the most incredible token of their love onto her ring finger. As it slid up her skin, it made her hand tingle, and upon reaching the crick of her last knuckle, the diamond in it center flashed a bright red light.


	20. Chapter 20: Epilogue: The Last Laugh

**Epilogue: The Last Laugh**

Nineteen weeks later.

Hermione cleared security at three minutes before six. A new record! This was the earliest she had ever left on a Friday night. Completely destroying last Friday's record of ten to seven. Walking outside the main security gate onto Downing Street she inhaled a deep breath of frigid March air mixed with a healthy chunk of diesel exhaust. It was wonderful. Pulling her stocking cap down to just above her eyebrows she turned and began to walk.

Things were going quite well on the Minister's Protection Detail considering the trouble it had a few months earlier. Hermione appointed two wizards and one witch to replace Jonas Quaid, her deceased partner. She hired three, because one of them would eventually replace her, though they didn't know it yet. This made for a nice friendly competition.

Darius Jamak was a seasoned Auror, whom both Harry and Ron recommended emphatically. Kaelya Dravenloft applied from the Department of Mysteries, and although she wasn't an Auror, her magical skills and problem solving abilities made her a formidable candidate. Junior Auror Dennis Creavy was neither experienced nor clever. Hermione selected him as the wild card following three fantastic interviews with the man. He was, after all, a veteran of Dumbledore's Army, and just as eager to succeed as his late brother Colin. Hermione knew, though he wasn't ready for command, yet, she could definitely find a place for him.

Their training was coming along nicely. To such a degree it actually afforded Hermione time away from Downing Street. The team was reorganized, and could handle just about anything. They all knew what exactly constituted 'interruption worthy,' and kept Hermione in the loop at all times. This allowed her the time to investigate interesting and peculiar intelligence, as well as have a fairly regular schedule.

Tromping through the snow and slush on the footpath, she turned off Downing Street and headed uptown. It was Friday, and she had a date! A double date actually. She and her fiancé would be joining Mr. and Mrs. Potter for drinks. It was a fun little Muggle pub, called Fitz's; located just three blocks from Hermione and Ron's flat.  
Ginny and Harry married in November in grand fashion. As sad as Hermione was to see Ginny leave their flat and move in with Harry at Grimmauld Place, she traded one roommate for another, and began to build a home with Ron.

They'd been living together for almost three months, and she couldn't be happier. Hermione smiled, thinking that she wasn't completely sure they would get along in such close proximity to each other. In reality, she thought both of them were surprised how easy it was to live together. Ron was just a tad cleaner, and just a bit more considerate than normal; in turn, she was a tad more easy going about things, and just a bit more patient. The honest truth was, she liked having him around. Picking up the occasional dirty garment, or dressing his wounds over the kitchen sink were actually things she enjoyed. They made a nice team, and she loved their home.

Hermione traversed the six blocks to the pub with little effort, and as she walked in her spirits climbed even higher to see the place was packed with Muggles. Music was playing, everyone seemed to have beer in hand, and the yells of intoxicated conversation made the smile on her face impossible to hide.

Perfect! She thought, as she moved into the crowd. She shuffled past the Muggles towards the end of the bar, and moved in to claim a booth in the corner. For the first time in recent history, Hermione was on time, and everyone else was late.

She plopped down in the booth, and reached into her bag. Pulling out a few files, she took advantage of a free moment. On second thought, Hermione laughed at herself and put the files away. It's Friday, this can wait! Go get a pint!

Hermione moved to the end of the bar, and waited patiently for the bartender to take her order. The bar was now completely packed with Muggles, and getting the attention of the lone server seemed an effort in futility.

Hermione's senses honed in on a few men taking notice of her standing at the bar. She ignored their comments, raising an arm as the bartender looked right past her and took someone else's order. Their tone got louder and bolder, and as hard as she tried to ignore them she was forced to bite her lip when the bravest of the group walked up and stood next to her at the bar.

"Oi, love," he said sounding far too confident, and none too charming.

Hermione turned towards the man trying not to appear warm to his intrusion. He looked around her age, and just a little bit shorter than Ron. She smiled at him, barely, but did not speak. Her cold response did not slow his advance.

"I'm Darin," he said, extending his hand. "Those are my mates, Tim and Kevin. We wanted to know if you'd like to join us." Darin's friends acted on cue and moved in around her.

"No, thank you," Hermione said politely, not shaking his hand.

"Aw, why not? We's just having a good time."

"I am waiting on someone," Hermione answered,

"Waiting on someone?" Darin laughed, "but we're already here!"

Looking over her shoulder into the crowd; Ron, Ginny and Harry were nowhere to be seen. She made eye contact with another Muggle, separate from Darin's friends, and quickly looked away. Realizing she was alone, Hermione turned back to the bar and desperately rattled her brain for an escape strategy.

"Hello, Darling!" a voice said behind her. "Sorry I'm late."

Hermione turned and watched as the Muggle man from the crowd walked up and put his arm around her back. He gave her a subtle wink and an awkward squeeze before turning towards Darin and his friends.

"It's about time you got here Sweetheart." Hermione tried to act quickly, but was sure her acting needed some serious work.

"Who are your friends?" he asked, trying to sound intimidating.

"Uh," Hermione paused, catching on, "I'm sorry, I know you said your name, but I can't remember it." She knew full well his name was Darin.

"Darin," he replied looking put off, and accepted the man's extended hand.

"Jason Krause, nice to meet you mate."

"Cheers," Darin smiled a fake smile. The tides of the uncomfortable conversation obviously shifted onto his shoulders as Jason Krause stood easily three inches taller than him.

"Whatcha drinking, love?" Jason asked of her.

"Oh, I don't care; a pint of something light." Hermione answered, now fully in character.

Jason raised a long arm and immediately caught the bartender's attention. "Two lagers, mate!" he yelled, and within a flash he held two draughts in his large hand. "You got a table, love?"

Hermione pointed into the corner, and walked off without excusing herself.

"Have a good night chaps!" Jason said sarcastically, following Hermione. "Next time mind the left hand, and the engagement right you can see from space!"

Hermione giggled as she took a seat and could hear Jason laughing too. He handed her a pint but did not sit down.

"Have a seat," she laughed, "you earned it."

He sat down across from her and smiled. "We haven't been formally introduced—"

"Jason Krause, yes, I heard," she said, reaching out and shaking his hand. "Thanks for getting me out of that. My name is Hermione."

"I'm sorry, what?" He said, leaning in closer to hear her as she repeated herself. "Ah, nice to meet you. Do you have a last name Hermione, or are you some famous celebrity who only has one name?" His tone had the hint of being flirty, but as he had already spotted her engagement ring Hermione brushed it off as him being polite.

"Hermione Granger," she smiled.

"Very nice to meet you, Miss Granger. So where is this fiancé of yours?"

"He's late," Hermione laughed looking over Jason's shoulder into the crowd. "But there's my friend Ginny."

Breaking through the packed crowd Ginny stopped once she got clear of the last Muggle. She dropped her shoulders looking disheveled, blew her fringe out of her face and looked directly at Hermione.

"Does anyone else want grab my bum before I sit down?" Ginny yelled loud enough for most of the pub to hear her. Hermione nearly spit out a mouthful of beer as Ginny walked up and joined them.

The two witches hugged briefly before they both sat down across from Jason.

"This is my friend Ginny Weasley," Hermione introduced, as Ginny reached out her hand to the Muggle.

"Ginny Potter," she corrected, shaking Jason's hand.

The three of them made silly small talk for almost half an hour. Jason kept them company from straying males, and actually kept the two witches quite entertained. As he bought a second and then a third round for them the conversation began to get strained; Jason's questions became harder to answer.

Neither of them did anything in the Muggle world, so answering questions about employment or education were hard to avoid. Though neither she nor Ginny were annoyed by his presence their faces lit up like Christmas when Harry and Ron appeared at last.

Both ladies jumped to their feet to hug their men, as Jason politely stood and looked to be waiting for formal introductions. Ron and Harry were both clued in on the Muggle as Hermione spoke at last.

"Jason this is my fiancé, Ron." She said politely.

"Jason Krause," he smiled, shaking Ron's hand.

"Ron Weasley, this is my best mate, Harry Potter."

"Harry, nice to meet you, mate." Jason turned to the group. "Not trying crash your women, gents, just keeping 'em company while the natives were restless." He motioned over his shoulder at several groups of Muggle men stared at the two women.

"No worries," Ron smiled, putting arm around Hermione.

"Well, Miss Granger, Mrs. Potter, it's been a real pleasure. Mister Potter, congratulations, that's quite a bride you have there. Mister Weasley, good luck, I'm sure you two will be very happy." Jason shook everyone's hand one last time, picked up his pint and disappeared into the crowd.

The four of them smiled and ordered another round of drinks before taking a seat together.

"So, I want to hear about Valentine's," Ginny bellowed at Hermione the second they were all seated. "How was Switzerland?"

Ron sat close to Hermione, as she shared the highlights of their Valentine's vacation. They continued to order drinks, and had a great time talking about nothing in particular and nothing of importance. Everyone laughed when Ron ordered bar food. Harry told silly stories, and Ginny recounted several funny Quidditch moments from the past season.

Hermione stood shivering outside waiting for Ron to settle their bar tab. Well past midnight in February the London air was frigid with infrequent bites of a painful breeze. Standing nearby, arm in arm and kissing passionately were the Potter's. Hermione couldn't tell where Harry ended and Ginny began which was both testament to how cold it was outside and the amount of alcohol the entire group consumed.

Finally Ron appeared outside, looking intoxicated and annoyed. Hermione reached for him, hoping to steal some of his body heat.

"Fun night, eh?" Harry said, finally coming up for air. "See you Monday then?"

"Yeah, great times," Ron answered with a dunken laugh.  
"Right, let's get you home Ginny, we can use the alley. Are you guys okay to get back alone?"

"Uh, yeah mate, but—" Ron answered before Hermione and Ginny cut the boys off.

"You can't apparate when you're pissed Harry." Hermione scolded.

"Yeah, I agree, I don't want you splinching off anything I might need." Ginny sassed with heavy eyelids and a slurred lower lip.

"Aw, it's not far?" Harry pleaded.

"Come on!" Hermione insisted grabbing both Harry and Ron's arms. "Take our floo, the walk will help sober you up a bit."

Harry looked to Ginny and reluctantly gave up. Turning west, the two couples walked on the footpath toward Hermione and Ron's flat.

Hermione wasn't sure who was holding whom up with her and Ron, and judging from the giggles behind them she was pretty sure Ginny and Harry were having the same issues maintaining balance.

Ron seemed to slump on Hermione even more as Harry and Ginny began singing another round of the pub song from last call. The cold air was helping Hermione's brain focus, and even though the walk stirred her blood she was still quite frigid.

Ron turned his head as they detoured down an alleyway. His posture seemed to stiffen, but he didn't look around. Hermione noticed his eyes locked in an almost stare straight ahead.

"Ron?" Harry whispered.

"I know," Ron responded immediately.

Hermione turned her head and looked into the dark, cluing into the fact that both Ron and Harry sensed something. Looking back forward, she felt Ron reach for his wand. Hermiones hands joined as her fingertips found the hilt of her wand up her sleeve. Harry and Ginny's footsteps got closer as they tightened up the group.

"What is it?" Hermione whispered, barely audible. She searched and searched the darkness but saw nothing.

"Followed." Ron said softly.

Hermione turned and looked behind them, sure enough, four men followed them down the alley. The darkness obscured their faces, as Hermione strained her eyes to see. She felt a tug on her arm, and turned back to the front. Ron had stopped walking, his path impeded by five men in front of them. Hermione was stunned to see the Muggle who kept them company in the pub stepping forward.

"What's up?" Ron said defiantly, and Hermione could feel him moving his wand into position.

"Hello again," Jason said calmly, "Mister and Missus Potter, Miss Granger, and of course Mister Weasley."

"When you say Mister Weasley, I look for my father, now what do you want?"

"Oh, Mister Weasley, what I want is to be home with my wife and kids. What I want is unimportant because I have to be out on a freezing night, when I could be at home watching the tele."

Hermione didn't understand what was happening, she kept looking from face to face and swore she recognized faces from the bar.

"Let us pass please," Harry commanded, "we don't want any trouble."

"Trouble," Jason laughed, turning to his mates. "Oh, we are weeks past trouble Mister Potter. All of you are in serious trouble."

"What?" Hermione questioned.

"My name is Jason Krause, as you know. What you don't know is that I am a Special Agent for Interpol."

"Interpol?" Hermione and Harry said simultaneously.

"What the bloody hell is—"

"International Muggle Law Enforcement," Hermione whispered to Ron. "They're like Auror's but for Muggle's."

Jason smiled as if he heard every word she said.

"What do you want?" Ron demanded.

"We've had a hell of a time tracking you Mister Weasley, if that is even your real name. You are quite skilled at hiding. No fingerprints on record, no credit history, no education history, in fact we can't even find proof you were ever born."

Ron flexed his wand hand, but Hermione, sensing the situation was about to get worse, reached out and grabbed it. Ron looked around the crowd, and began to see weapons being pointed at him and his friends.

"Hey!" Harry yelled, pulling Ginny in front of him. His wand already out in plain sight. "Do NOT point those at us. You've made a mistake, don't do this!"

"A mistake? No." Jason turned to address Harry. "I think not. You four, are far from innocent. Nevertheless, we are not here for you Mister Potter; another individual of great interest to Interpol based on your lack of history. There is no record of your birth, but you do have a small trail, up until your eleventh birthday, when you vanished from society. I suggest you take your wife home, and pray I don't investigate you further, Potter."

Hermione turned and looked to Harry, and motioned for him to calm down. "What do you want Jason?"

"I am here for him," he smiled, pointing to Ron.

Hermione held Ron's arm with all of her might, she could tell he was ready to fight.

"Ronald Weasley, you are under arrest. For kidnapping, torture, and the attempted murder of Edmond Winchester."

"What?" Hermione and Ron both screamed.

Jason motioned for two of his men to secure Ron, who immediately raised his arms to fight.

"Wait! Wait!" Hermione screamed, both holding Ron's wand down and raising her hand to Jason's men.

Jason motioned for his men to halt, as Hermione turned to Ron.

"Wait, love," she smiled with a pleading look on her face. "Wait, just a second, please!" Hermione turned to Jason, and pulled something out of her purse. Harry, who was holding Ginny close, thought for one mad second that she was going to fight. It wasn't until he saw her billfold, that he realized what she was doing.

"My name is Hermione Granger," she said, holding up her Secret Services badge, "and I am MI-5. I order you to let him go!" She held the badge out for everyone to see, but no one said a work. Except Jason, who had begun to laugh.

"Yes, yes, you are MI-5, we know," Jason began sarcastically. "Born to two dentists. Educated up until her eleventh birthday, and not one day since. Yes, we are aware of who you are and who you work for Miss Granger. Interpol would be glad to take a nice hard look into your life, if you would like."

"Look all you want, I am ordering you to let him go."

"You know, Hermione, the intelligence on you was that you're a pretty sharp girl. You know you don't have the authority to make such an order. You know I have an arrest directive, that is legal, and binding. You should know how this process works, seeing as you work for the Magistrate. I don't care who or what you people are, and I certainly don't care if you are guilty or innocent. I am here to arrest him, and if you lot get in the way I will arrest you too."

"I want to see this directive." Hermione demanded, lowering her badge.

One of Jason's men produced the document, which Hermione snatched and began reading. Harry, Ron, and Ginny didn't make a sound but remained huddled together away from her. After a minute of reading, a new voice spoke up.

"I prepared it myself, Miss Granger," a new voice said while walking up to the crowd. "It's valid, and binding. You're boyfriend is going to jail for a very long time."

"Who the hell are you?" Ginny snorted.

Jason dropped his head, looking upset. "His name is Marcus Hendsbee, he's an attorney, and he knows he's not supposed to be here."

"I represent Mister Winchester. I documented the crimes against him, and your attempts to cover up the truth."

"You need to leave Hendsbee, this is Interpol business."

Marcus did not leave, instead producing a video camera that he pointed at Ron. Once the red light turned on, Hermione knew there was no getting out of this situation.

"I have a right to be here, this is a public place. I want to witness any resistance to arrest."

"Oh, I'll show you resisting!" Ron snapped, trying to raise his wand.

"Yes, please!" Marcus screamed, "Show us, show us everything! Make my job easy!"

Hermione spun, and grabbed Ron's arm, holding it down again. She noticed his face was so determined, and that he was ready. She reached out and grabbed his hands.

"Ron," she asked softly. "Ron, look at me please."

It took a moment for the fierce stare on Ron's face to soften. Finally he looked down at her. Hermione smiled.

"Ron, do you trust me?"

"What?" he whispered.

"Ron, I am so sorry, but I think you need to let them take you?"

"What!" Ron gasped, as Ginny and Harry both moved in to object.

"Ron, listen to me. This is a game, and they are playing it very well. Edmond obviously remembers enough, and he went to the authorities. This is perfectly legal, and this is what we do every day to arrest people."

"Hermione, you can't be serious, I am not going to a Muggle jail!"

"Listen to me love," she pleaded as tears began to streak her face. "If we run or fight, we will be just as guilty. It will destroy any secrecy and will make an already delicate situation worse. Please, Ron, please, think about this."

"Hermione no! I can't—"

"Kingsley has direct access to the Muggle Minister, we have to get him involved. Please, Ron, we have to do this diplomatically and legislatively or I fear we could ruin everything."

"You tell him!" Marcus chimed in, laughing and leaning up against the closest brick wall.

"Shuddup!" Hermione snapped. "Ron, please, listen to me."

"Ron," Ginny said softly, "I think she's right. We can't fight."

"Ron, I love you man. I would storm the gates of hell with you, but I am not doing shit with Ginny here."

Hermione locked her fingers inside Ron's and stepped up on her toes to give him a tear filled kiss. They shared a long, passionate embrace, that Hermione was reluctant to break. As she dropped back down onto her heals, her fingers pulled the wand from Ron's hand.

Seeing his face, Hermione's heart shattered into a million pieces.

"Say nothing, Ron!" Hermione choked. "Speak to no one, remain silent do you understand?"

Ron nodded.

"I will fix this, I am coming for you, my love." Hermione and Ginny were both crying now. "Be patient, we have to do this right."

"I love you, Hermione." Ron conceded. "You owe me!" He smiled winked at her, which made her laugh and cry at the same time.

Ron slid his fingers out of hers, and turned towards Jason Krause. Immediately two men stepped forward and handcuffed Ron's hands behind his back. Hermione and Ginny were both sobbing loudly now, while Harry held them both looking furious.

The Interpol Agents escorted Ron to a vehicle parked in the alley, one by one, the agents loaded up, and within seconds, the black cruiser pulled away to screeching tires.

Ron was gone, and left Hermione, Ginny, Harry and Marcus Hendsbee standing alone. The vehicle wasn't gone ten seconds before Hermione rounded on Marcus and his video camera. Harry half heartedly tried to restrain her. Ginny two joined the fight.

"You piece of filth!" Hermione screamed, pulling out her wand.

Harry noticed Marcus was not moving, just leaning against the brick wall and holding his camera. His eyes did move, flickering back and forth in panic.

Hermione flicked her wand, and released the full body bind curse she secretly placed on him.

Marcus moved, and began to swear.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Hermione screamed as his camera soared into the air. "ACCIO!"

She summoned the camera towards her, but made no effort to catch it. It flew past her and slammed in the wall behind her turning it into a thousand plastic toothpics.

"You'll pay for the Missy," Marcus coughed. "I don't know who you think—"

Hermione's wand moved again, releasing a pulse of purple and blue light around the group.

"That should fry any electronic equipment, asshole!" Hermione grunted and stepped in to be within inches of Marcus's face. "You know what we are, don't you?"

"I have a pretty good idea, yes." He replied with a shaky voice.

"Good, at least you know what you just got yourself into."

BANG! Marcus crumpled.

"That felt good. Harry, I'm going to Kinglsey." Hermione said as a matter of fact.

"Right, we're headed to the Burrow. Molly and the Order will want to know about this."

"We're getting out of the Muggle world for now, ask Molly if we can stay at the Burrow."

"Okay," Ginny agreed.

"Harry wake him up, and scare the crap out of him. I will be in touch." Hermione raised both arms, turned on her heel and vanished with a crack.

Harry moved over to the remains of the video camera and pocketed a mess of videotape. His best friend was on his way to jail, while his other best friend was preparing to fight a war. All the while, all he wanted to do was get his wife to safety.

Harry turned and saw that Ginny had woken Marcus.

"That little bitch!" he screamed while trying to get to his feet. "You will all pay for this. I will make you pay."

"You can try," Ginny taunted.

"One little girl, that's all you got? One brown haired lover, who thinks because she works for the Prime Minister she's invincible? What's she think she's gonna do?"

"You'll see," Ginny laughed. "Don't worry, you'll see."

Fin. 


End file.
